


Equivalence

by amidtheflowers



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Slow Build, a hopeful fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata watches him sometimes when he visits, the monitors beeping softly. Still, alive, and breathing. It gives him hope.</p>
<p>Everyone wakes from the game, older, guilt-ridden, and determined to save the friends that died in the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revival

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on what would happen _**directly**_ after Hinata  & co. beat the game. I've attempted my best theories and hope this is as canon-compliant as possible.
> 
> Art for chapter 4 was made by [ checaria](http://checaria.tumblr.com/post/106755101049/happy-new-year-and-happy-birthday-hinata-i)

**Chapter 1: Revival**

**-:-**

Light.

 

It’s pale, and bright, yet soft. He thinks vaguely that if he reaches forward just a little, his fingertips could brush through it like warm tendrils of sunlight, tangible even in this metaphysical world. He smiles.

 

That is when he begins to breathe.

 

His eyes widen and the beauty of the light fades sharply into an unbearable, harsh torment to his sensitive eyes. They snap open despite the pain as his lungs expand, his body writhing and hands flailing. They meet a hard surface, and Hinata blinks rapidly against the stream of moisture falling from his eyelids. Desperately, he closes his hands into fists and pounds against it.

 

“Ffuhhhh,” he rasps, and the sound is foreign to his ears. His hands fall down to his sides after hitting what appeared to be the lid to a large oval capsule. His muscles are too weak to do more than shift around slowly, and Hinata knows. His eyes are unused, his arms are unused, his voice is unused. His breathing is shallow and ragged, as if fighting for every bit of air. His arms are still trembling by his sides. He wonders why he is here.

 

The thought causes his head to pound violently, and Hinata has to close his eyes again. Weakly, he wipes away the moisture from his cheeks, and there his fingers accidentally brush against a wire. Brow furrowing, he follows it, finding more and more as he goes. Little paper circles are taped to his temples, with wires protruding out of them and burrowing into the back of the capsule. He scowls, and with trembling fingers he starts ripping them off.

 

  _Why, why…._ There is a light emanating from the capsule—no, _outside_ of the capsule. It’s bright and frightening and Hinata struggles to remember…why is he here?

 

Images flash before his eyes like technicolor photographs, and Hinata lets out a hoarse cry. _No …no more…no more!_ He kicks violently, and to his surprise, the capsule lid pops up.

 

 Instinct pushes Hinata up and swings one leg limply out, twisting his body out of the capsule. His balance is nonexistent, much like the muscle in his atrophied legs, and he crashes shoulder-first onto the ground. Slowly he turns over and breathes rapidly, staring up at the dark ceiling. He is free.

 

Hinata hears a noise coming on his far left, and he grits his teeth. “Get…up…” Hinata whispers harshly, and with some difficulty he manages to push himself up. It is when he is finally sitting straight that a thicket of long, brown hair cascades down his shoulders and spills into his hands.

 

_What is this?_

_What is_ this _?_

_My hair…it’s…_ Hinata runs his fingers through them. It’s coarse and tangled, damaged beyond repair. _Just like me_. 

 

Hinata frowns at the invasive thought. For a brief moment, he stops breathing. Blood is pounding behind his ears as he stares at the hands that hold bundles of his dark brown hair, grasping tightly, thinking and thinking…and it pieces together.

 

The noise from his far left grows increasingly louder, and Hinata quickly struggles to his feet. Grasping the nearest capsule, he supports himself on them as he circles around to the one making the loud noises. Though the lid is not transparent, he can still make out the faint shadow of two hands weakly pushing against the door. Hinata reaches over and helps push it off.

 

“Kuzuryuu,” he says automatically. He’s not even sure if he understands what he just said—but Kuzuryuu does the rest, as he sits up in the container, and looks at him with tired, angry eyes. “Why the fuck were these closed so tightly?” he growls harshly, although his speech is somewhat slurred from disuse and tiredness. “As if we would escape in the middle of the game.” He looks up, his eyes connecting with Hinata’s, and goes still. “Shit, Hinata…”

 

Hinata says nothing. Kuzuryuu stares at him for a long while and Hinata can see every thought that is crossing his mind—disbelief, wonder, disappointment, _hope_.

 

“It’s good to see you,” says Kuzuryuu quietly.

 

“Y-yeah…”

 

Slowly, the other capsules are open, and more world-weary eyes see reality once again; first Sonia, then Owari, Togami, and Kirigiri. Souda’s capsule has to be pried open to let him out, and when they do open it they find a sobbing Souda inside. Hinata is certain he would be fetal if the capsule allowed such movement.

 

“We’re so much older,” Sonia smiles in disbelief. Everyone glances down themselves, and Souda laughs. Hinata awkwardly pushes his long strands of hair back.

 

“Always observant, Sonia-san,” he grins, rubbing the back of his head in his usual boyish way, and it almost feels like nothing has changed. “I’ll take older any day if it means I’m out of that damn nightmare.”

 

And there it is. Silence greets them again, and Naegi glances cautiously at Togami and Kirigiri.

 

“We…should check on them,” Kuzuryuu speaks first, looking at the capsules around him. He stumbles a little at first, and is out of breath by the time he reaches the capsule his eyes had set on since the moment he woke up. Each capsule has a name printed on a white label, and Kuzuryuu stares at Peko Pekoyama’s name for a long time.

 

“Is she…is there something helping them? Like life support, or…”

 

“Each deceased has a ventilator and vital fluids hooked to their bodies,” Togami informs, pushing his glasses up. “The capsule automatically preserved them when their brains shut down.”

 

Kuzuryuu’s eyes flash angrily, and he snarls, “They’re _not_ deceased.”

 

Sonia looks distressed. “Kuzuryuu-san…”

 

“No! I don’t care what they try to tell me. A small chance is still a _chance_.” His scowl deepens as his hand touches Pekoyama’s capsule almost protectively. “Not even you can take that away from me.” And without further preamble, Kuzuryuu slowly pushes the lid open.

 

Hinata almost looks away, feeling like he’s watching something personal and private. Sonia’s eyes widen and start to glisten, and Owari goes very still, as Souda’s mouth parts. Kuzuryuu is visibly shaken as his eyes fix on how Pekoyama is still breathing, still living even if she isn’t fully alive. An unsteady hand reaches over to brush against her cheek. Kuzuryuu seems to have lost an internal battle, for his head suddenly bows down.

 

Owari is the first to move after Kuzuryuu. “I’m coming for ya, old man,” she growls loudly, and manages to reach Nidai’s capsule without holding on to anything for support. Sonia looks away from Kuzuryuu with a determined gleam in her eye, and she slowly makes her way to Tanaka’s capsule. Souda exclaims her name, but glances down at the floor. Slowly, for whatever reason, he heads for Ibuki’s capsule.

 

Hinata is left alone, standing by Togami, Kirigiri, and Naegi. He does not look at them as he too begins to walk, silently and unsurely. Saionji and Koizumi’s capsules are next to each other as he passes them. Teruteru, the other Togami, Tsumiki.…

 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know why he stops. Vaguely Hinata thinks that if Nanami had a capsule, he would like to be by hers. But she does not, and against his will, against his better judgment, he has chosen to stand by this one. His finger traces against the printed words on the edge. N…A…G…I…T…O….

 

He glances around and sees the overwhelmed expressions his friends have. They are sad but still light, still able to manage a slight smile. Even Kuzuryuu is shaking his head and looking at Pekoyama with less grief than before. Because something is better than nothing. _Anything_ is better than nothing. And with that thought, Hinata discards his troubled thoughts and opens the lid.

 

Hinata stares at him for a long time; looking at his face, the disarrayed hair. Everything was the same yet slightly different. His eyes fall on the bandaged wrist.

 

“Komaeda,” Hinata mutters to himself. The memories he’d seen in the game were real; the proof was right there, with the wrist attached to a manicured hand, now pallid and mottled with long red nails tacked on. He touches Komaeda’s wrist and feels the divide, and it almost repulses him enough to move away. But he doesn’t, not just yet…he feels the warmth of the skin below his wrist, blood still running underneath with fervor. Veins and arteries that trace back to his heart and continue to pump, little muscles that still move, a body that is still alive. His hand traces down to the hand and it is a sharp difference—cold to the touch, leathery, and unequivocally dead.

 

Hinata steps away from Komaeda’s body and looks to Naegi. “We need to get them out of here. We need to take off the wires connecting to the game console,” he looks at the huge tower placed in the center, where all the capsules are connected to, “and we need to destroy that immediately.”

 

“Hinata-kun is right,” Sonia says determinedly. “That virus is still in there, even if it no longer works like it should. We need to get rid of the whole thing, and…and help save our friends.”

 

“I agree with Sonia-san! We can’t waste time just standing around here. We did enough of that in the game; it’s time to get to work!” says Souda, his fists clenched in anticipation.

 

“Leave it to me,” Owari says with a passionate glint in her eyes. “Just tell me who to pick up first, and I’ll do it.”

 

“Slow down,” Kirigiri says firmly. “None of you are strong enough to carry all these capsules out of here by yourselves. We will help you.”

 

Togami reaches into his pocket and retrieves a cell phone, typing quickly. “We will hold off the Future Foundation as promised. No harm will come to any of you.” He looks up briefly and smirks. “It seems the New World Program still managed to do some good, in the end. I only see memories of Super High School Level Despair students now.”

 

Hinata looks away. Inside him, buried deep in his mind, it is still there. If he tries, he knows he can find it again. But that is not what he will do. He has something much more important than that now in his life.

 

“What are your plans?” Naegi asks suddenly. He is looking directly at Hinata. “You know what conditions you are in, as well as your friends. What do you want to do, now that you are free?”

 

Hinata glances at his friends, and straightens. “I think by now you know. Our primary goal is to save our friends. I know you said it is impossible, but I refuse to believe that. We…we have all seen impossible things. Hope’s Peak did impossible things, and went through even more impossible situations. And we’re still here, alive and breathing, and Enoshima Junko is not. So we’re not going to give up here either.” Hinata unknowingly grips the end of Komaeda’s capsule tightly. “We first need to find a facility for all of our friends who were murdered in the game. We ourselves will stay there and help them as we heal too.”

 

“We will need supplies,” Kuzuryuu steps in, crossing his arms. “And…since we no longer have a nurse to help us,” everyone briefly glances at Tsumiki’s capsule, visibly perturbed, “we’ll need professional help with caring for them. And they have to be trustworthy, or this is all for nothing!”

 

“You will have the same hospital staff that helped treat you,” Kirigiri replies swiftly. “That is not a problem. But…the question remains…do you wish to stay here?”

 

They all pause. Stay? Hinata frowns deeply. Stay…because…

 

“We’re still on Jabberwock Island,” he realizes aloud.

 

Togami nods. “You are. Everything that was simulated in the game is what is on this island, minus the ruins. That was the virus’s corruption.”

 

“S…so the hospital? The one that was used to treat the despair-fever students? That’s still here?” asks Sonia.

 

“Yes.”

 

Hinata steps forward confidently. “Then we stay.”

 

 

**-:-**

 

Hinata is staring outside a window when a soft knock sounds at the door. “Come in.” He looks up, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Kirigiri? I thought you’d gone already!”

 

“Briefly, yes,” she admits quietly. “But I forgot to give you what you requested, so I asked to return.” She hands him a thick manila file, and Hinata looks at her in confusion.

 

“This…”

 

“I keep my promises. I am…happy…that you are feeling well, Hinata-kun. I truly hope you use this information for your own self-satisfaction, and nothing more. We have worked very hard since that incident…but I trust in you.” Kirigiri smiles softly. “Goodbye, Hajime Hinata.”

 

“Y-yeah…bye….” He watches her leave the room, her last words reverberating in his head; _Hajime Hinata..._.

 

The file is heavy in his hands. Sighing deeply, Hinata flips to the first page, and begins to read.

 

 

**-:-**

 

There is no plan yet. Nothing certain, nothing stable, just wishes and hopes and dreams and science. _So much_ damned science. Hinata thinks bitterly that if only there had been a super high school level scientist in their group, things would be much more understandable.

 

Pekoyama, Twogami, Gundam, Teruteru, Tsumiki, Ibuki, Nidai, Komaeda, Saionji, and Koizumi have been in their rooms for two weeks now. They are stable, but in the medical world, they’re still dead. Sonia suggested to take them off the ventilators to see if their lungs really could sustain themselves or not (since the capsule had facilitated most of the treatment itself), and found that all eight of them could not survive without it. Sonia’s face visibly fell, and after a brief excuse, she retreated quickly to her old room right.

 

Hinata visits them every day. He can’t help but check in for a few hours. He only stays briefly in the rooms that are occupied the most—namely, Pekoyama, Tanaka, and Nidai’s, although Owari will usually leave immediately when Hinata comes to visit Nidai, exclaiming something about not wanting to sit by idly and building up her stamina.

 

And yet…he still has not gotten himself to visit Komaeda’s room. Not after what he read about…not when Kirigiri gave him that file…whenever he passes by Komaeda’s room he pauses, and watches through the doorway for a while. _Still, alive, breathing._ Hinata repeats it to himself like a mantra; _still, alive, breathing…still…alive…_ and then he looks away, and continues walking.

 

But honestly, it was a matter of time before it was noticed. Souda of all people catches it first.

 

“Why don’t you just go in, man?”

 

Hinata scoffs. “I go in, sometimes.”

 

Souda looks at him skeptically. “Really? ’Cause I haven’t seen you do it yet.”

 

Hinata scowls. “What, have you been watching me?”

 

Souda puts up his hands in resignation. “Whatever, it’s not my business anyway. I’m going to collect some parts at the auto shop. You need anything?”

 

Hinata shakes his head, and feels a little guilty for lashing out at him once he’s gone. Souda was an idiot, but an honest one. But it really _wasn’t_ his business. And Hinata wasn’t avoiding anything either. So he was wrong.

 

_Still, alive, breathing…._

 

Walking around Jabberwock Park is the most disconcerting part. Seeing where horrific things had happened…seeing places where his friends were murdered, only to realize it was a game…and constantly having that fear that at any moment, Monobear will pop up in front of him and tell him that this was a game too….

 

But he learns to accept it, and slowly walking around the island becomes easier. It helps that his friends are still there—yes, they’re older but they’re the same people as he remembered them in the game. They’ve changed too, in their own slight ways, because who wouldn’t? Who _wouldn’t_ change after realizing they were the worst of mankind before the New World Program? That they had killed hundreds, thousands, tens and thousands, millions—

 

The thought was unfathomable at first, but they accepted it, and accepted what they had done in the past, and chose to continue. That is how they got out of the game anyway. They made their own choices.

 

It is when he goes to see Pekoyama that Kuzuryuu finally mentions it.

 

“I think it’s been long enough now, Hinata.” Kuzuryuu looks at him in that slow, penetrating way that reminds Hinata that this was indeed a Yakuza in front of him. He doesn’t say any more than that, and turns back to face Pekoyama.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hinata answers.

 

Kuzuryuu stares at him. “I would rather regret something for doing it, rather than not trying at all.”

 

Hinata wants to say something angry and protest, to say that he was wrong, but the fight leaves him. Because, he is right. It has been long enough now. Avoiding…denying the truth would never erase the truth buried in Hinata’s heart. It is time to accept even this.

 

With that thought, Hinata leaves Pekoyama’s room. He walks quietly through the corridor, turning left and stopping in front of the first room. His hands are sweating a little and his heart is pounding. Hinata remembers what he learned many years before in school, Fight or Flight…he’s been doing the latter for so long that Hinata’s body could barely contain itself from turning around and leaving again.

 

“No,” Hinata scolds himself. “Stop being stupid.”

 

He opens the door and steps inside.

 

Komaeda is lying on the bed, same as the day he was put there. His eyes are closed and a clear mask covers half of his face, taking deep, steady breaths every few seconds through the ventilator. It’s strange seeing Komaeda in hospital uniform again, but not unpleasant. Slowly, Hinata walks towards the bed and stops at the edge, so that his knees bump against the mattress, and stares at him for a little while. He takes in the sunken cheeks and wild, white hair; the serene quietness of his expression, and the hand that was now bandaged completely. He is still, but he is alive, and he is breathing well. There is still a chance…Hinata still has a chance.

 

Hinata clears his throat. “I’ve seen Kuzuryuu talking to Pekoyama a few times…I’ve heard of people doing that….” Komaeda remains motionless. “I know saying things to you isn’t going to wake you up,” Hinata laughs a little at this. “Trust me, we’ve been doing a lot of reading on neurology these past few days…even Souda’s reading it. It’s not much, but we’re trying….”

 

Hinata pulls at his collar uncomfortably, and looks down. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

 

He sits down on the chair in front of the bed and stays there for a while, racing thoughts filling his mind, going faster and faster until he’s quickly giving himself a pounding headache. Everything keeps running through his mind, playing on repeat until he’s memorized it, and his chest feels tight as his stomach turns over.

 

“No,” Hinata admits in a low voice. “I know what I want to say. I just don’t want to.” Hinata runs his hands through his short hair. It was a relief cutting it all off last week, seeing his past finally cut away piece by piece. “I’ll try seeing you more every day. I don’t know how many other people visit you, honestly. You didn’t leave a great impression on everyone, you know. I think most of us still hate you. You…were awful, Komaeda. But….” Hinata pauses, and shakes his head. “Anyway…I guess I can try, at least. I should’ve been here before…sorry about that…”

 

Komaeda’s monitors continue to beep steadily.

 

Hinata stands up and awkwardly hovers over Komaeda. “So, guess I’ll leave then.” Hinata’s eyes rake over him one last time and he chuckles. “As twisted as it sounds, we could use you right now. This would be the part where you would say something that makes no sense, with that stupid smile…and Souda would tell you to shut the fuck up, Owari would threaten to beat you up, and Kuzuryuu would demand to know what you meant. And then you’d give us a big hint, as if the situation was the easiest in the world,” Hinata shakes his head disbelievingly. “You always did figure everything out ten steps before us. You’d probably be able to figure out how to fix everyone by the end of the first night.”

 

Komaeda breathes in deeply.

 

What _would_ Komaeda have said by now? Hinata can’t help but think it. He can imagine it clearly…that annoyingly cheerful smile, and then looking right into Hinata’s eyes and saying a few little words that would send Hinata’s world crumbling.

 

_It’s right in front of you, and you can’t even see it?_ He hears Komaeda say this cheerfully in his mind. _You really_ are _talentless, aren’t you?_

“Shut up,”Hinata hisses to himself, and steps away from the bed. He really is going insane if he can imagine Komaeda’s voice so perfectly. Damn him…comatose and still pissing Hinata off.

_Ah, you can’t help it, though. I forgive you!_ He imagines Komaeda giving him a thoughtful look with his arms crossed. _But really, you should talk to Souda_.

 

Hinata pauses. Souda? Why would he think of Souda? Hinata shakes his head. No, Komaeda hadn’t thought of it— _Hinata_ had thought that, but in Komaeda’s voice. “I’m going insane,” he mutters. Hinata reaches for the door handle, but something inside him tells him to look back at least once. He turns his head and looks at Komaeda for one last time.

 

_Hope,_ Komaeda would say. _Hope, hope hopehopehopehope—_

 

Hinata’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh! Yes, Souda!” He throws the door open and runs out, hoping Souda would be where he usually is at this time—hovering over Sonia.

 

Komaeda was right. He is wrong in so many ways, during so many things, but he can see clearer than anybody else. The irrefutable truth of the existence of _talent_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Mechanical Semantics

**Chapter 2: Mechanical Semantics**

**-:-**

“No way,” Souda shakes his head vigorously. “I’m a _mechanic_. I ain’t a brain surgeon.”

 

“No one’s asking you to perform surgery,” Hinata repeats exasperatedly. Sonia and Kuzuryuu exchange unsure glances, and Owari is watching them while taking a large bite out of a sandwich.

 

“Are you sure about this, though?” Owari mumbles between chewing. “I mean—you really want _Souda_ handling our friends’ brains? I wouldn’t want him touching my shoes.”

 

“Yeah, are you really—hey!” Souda suddenly glares at Owari, and they begin to argue. Hinata sighs and presses the edge of his palms to his eyes in frustration. Why couldn’t Souda just _listen_ to what he has to say?

 

“Silence! Souda-kun, you will listen to Hinata-kun and won’t interrupt!” Sonia exclaims with her arm raised in his direction. Souda pales.

 

“S-Sonia-san…” he says weakly.

 

“ _You won’t interrupt!_ ”

 

“Y-Yes ma’am!”

 

Hinata glances at Sonia and smiles slightly at her affirmative nod. “Look,” Hinata starts. “I know what I’m asking of you sounds impossible, but just hear me out. You’re a natural-born mechanic. You know how things work; you know the mechanism behind any part. You can recreate and retrace anything, so long as you know enough about it. I think…”

 

Hinata pauses, looking around uncertainly at his friends. “There is no one else in this world who can help us with this. And sitting here doing nothing about it won’t fix our friends. Those guys…Naegi and Togami and Kirigiri…they told us that what we’re trying to do can’t be done. They said that our friends will never recover…but I can’t believe that. I won’t.”

 

“There’s no harm in trying,” Kuzuryuu agrees. “At least we can say we did everything we could.”

 

Souda sighs, rubbing his hat nervously. “I guess…it wouldn’t hurt to look up more on this, try to figure out what’s wrong with each person and connect the dots together…it’s a lot like auto parts, really. You just need to know what each thing does, and how to put it back together once you’ve taken it apart.”

 

“Excellent! Good work, Hinata-kun!” Sonia says happily, and Souda splutters.

 

**-:-**

Hinata is standing before the door again, willing himself to stop being ridiculous and just walk in. After a full minute, he does.

 

“You don’t change much,” Hinata comments idly as he settles down in the chair next to the bed. Komaeda is still in the same position he was yesterday, still taking the long, even breaths through the mask. “I thought maybe someone’d come in to move you around a bit…so that, you know, all your muscles won’t become completely useless…” Hinata laughs sheepishly. “I’ve been reading way too many medical books lately.”

 

The concern is still there, and Hinata wonders if it’s already too late. They had been in the capsule for a very long time, and Hinata remembers having trouble moving when he woke up. Komaeda and the others were still asleep, and would undoubtedly need some serious physical therapy once they woke up…

 

 _If_. If they woke up.

 

“I’ll ask Sonia or Kuzuryuu about it later,” Hinata mutters. He stares at Komaeda and can’t help but feel really happy. “It’s thanks to you, you know,” Hinata says. “I mean, not really, because I technically thought of it, but I only thought of it once I tried to see what you would try to say. So…it was sort of the both of us? It was probably you anyway. It _would_ be you if you were awake right now.”

 

Hinata stares down at his clasped hands. There it is again—that overwhelmed feeling Hinata has been actively trying to avoid.

 

“I’m not sorry,” Hinata suddenly says, glaring at Komaeda’s still form. “What…what were you _thinking_ half the time in there? Why—why couldn’t you just talk to us? No matter what, you were still our friend…you still are, even today.” Hinata looks at Komaeda defiantly. “I’m not sorry.”

 

 _Liar_ , a gleeful voice whispers in the back of his mind. _Liar, liar, liar!_

 

“Shut up,” Hinata hisses, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to think about it. “Well, I guess I came to tell you some good news. Souda’s looking into everyone’s brain x-rays to figure out how to help you guys. We thought, you know, he’s super high school level mechanic, so what’s stopping him from fixing a brain? Or at least, figuring out what’s wrong and piecing things together…don’t worry, he won’t be getting inside your head,” Hinata reassures with a light smile. “He’s just going to looks at everyone’s scans and see where to go from there.”

 

Komaeda breathes in deeply as the monitor continues to beeps steadily. Hinata looks at it thoughtfully. “Sometimes, just looking at these monitors makes me happy. To see Ibuki’s, Nidai’s, Saionji’s, still beeping, still going…it’s enough hope for me.”

 

Hinata stands up, getting ready to leave. He turns to look at Komaeda again, and shakes his head. “You couldn’t see that before. That’s why you...well. I’ll make sure you understand it this time.”

 

**-:-**

 

 

It becomes something of a ritual for Hinata as the days go by. In the mornings he’ll discuss with the group on the progress they’ve made. In the afternoons he visits all of his friends in their hospital beds, and in the evening he meets with the group again for ideas. Then lastly, before going to bed, Hinata goes to visit Komaeda for a little while—and he’s finally realized that nobody else really visits him. He knows that Sonia’s been to see him at least once, though; two nights before, he found a pale handkerchief with Novoselic’s emblem sewn on it, carefully folded under Komaeda’s hand.

 

The ritual continues today, as Hinata settles into a chair in the breakfast hall. He hardly has a moment of rest before a shadow passes over him, and Hinata looks up in surprise.

 

“Souda?”

 

Souda’s brows are furrowed and a mildly irritated look is on his face. “I want to see their scans now.”

 

Hinata straightens quickly. “You—you figured it all out? It’s only been a week!”

 

Souda looks even more disgruntled as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, you kinda have to learn it quickly! And it wasn’t that hard,” Souda adds gruffly, looking away. “I’ve seen American tank system blueprints that are ten times more complicated than a human brain.”

 

Hinata nods slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. “That’s…that’s really good. So, uh…you want to look at their X-rays now?”

 

Souda’s defensive stance finally loosens, and he scratches his head. “Yeah, I need to see what we’re dealing with…to see what the damages are for each of them.”

 

“Okay. Um,” Hinata glances around at the empty breakfast hall. “Do you wanna wait and tell everybody else? I know the hospital has the equipment, but I’m not sure how it all works.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Souda replies, smoothing down his pink hair in anticipation as he looks at the entrance door. Hinata doesn’t need much else to know why. “I don’t think it would be a problem though; that dude—the one who talks like he’s got a stick shoved up his ass?”

 

Hinata’s expression darkens at the remark. “Do you mean Togami?”

 

“Yeah him—he called just this morning. Said that the hospital staff would be arriving today, so we have to meet them at the harbor at twelve.”

 

“Why did it take this long?” Hinata asks with a frown. “It’s been weeks since they left, and they’re only _just_ sending in a staff?”

 

“Well,” Kuzuryuu’s voice suddenly appears, and Hinata and Souda turn to see him strolling lazily towards them. “My money—if I still had it—is on the fact that they probably spent those weeks trying to stop the Future Foundation from dropping a bomb on this island and killing us all.”

 

Souda pales instantly, and Hinata blinks. “…R-right,” he mutters. It makes sense…why they haven’t heard from Togami, Naegi, or Kirigiri for so long…at first Hinata thought it was because they wanted to give them some space, or were busy with other things. Preventing their instant death now sounds blaringly obvious.

 

“You just _had_ to open your big mouth!” Souda practically shrieks, pulling his cap down so that it covers his eyes.

 

“Relax, Souda,” Owari says as she settles beside Hinata, already reaching for a bowl of cereal. “You’d die instantly, so it can’t be so bad?”

 

“I implore that we stop discussing such horrible situations, please,” Sonia frets as she, too, finally arrives in the breakfast hall and sits at the table.

 

“We wouldn’t be if Kuzuryuu didn’t—” Souda protests.

 

“Kuzuryuu had a valid point about why there hasn’t been hospital staff here yet. But never mind that,” Hinata sighs wearily, feeling like both an aged mediator and a very tired parent. How the hell did he end up with this role? “Souda’s ready to see X-rays of our friends.”

 

“Really?” Sonia exclaims. Souda brightens considerably at the sudden attention, and sits back in his seat with a lazy grin on his face.

 

“Well, it wasn’t actually that complicated,” Souda says with a shrug. Hinata rolls his eyes. “But yeah, it’s like he said. I know pretty much everything now, and I think it’s time to start putting that knowledge to use.”

 

Nobody speaks for a beat; Sonia looks like she’s fighting between exclaiming praises to Souda and jumping up and going straight to work. Owari doesn’t hold back her response and immediately grabs Souda for an affectionate headlock, causing him to shout angrily and send very empty threats her way. Kuzuryuu is not looking at anybody. His head is slightly bowed, a shadow falling over his face with his fist clenched tightly.

 

“W-we should get to work immediately!” Sonia smiles, pleased. It’s tentative, as if afraid of being too hopeful, but her lips tug insistently at the corners until she is beaming. “Just tell us what you need, and I’ll make a list of supplies and things we have to do.”

 

“Right away, Sonia-san!”

 

**-:-**

 

It is never so simple.

 

“This…”

 

Hinata can’t believe it. He can’t, and he can’t look away either. It’s as if his feet became permanently glued to the ground, as if the atmosphere was slowly leaving the earth and he is steadily getting sucked into a black hole, where nothing but Hinata and a set of transparent papers existed.

 

“They’re…they’re not all bad, right?” Sonia says hesitantly, her voice on the verge of breaking. “We still have a chance, right?”

 

No one replies. The hospital staff that arrived yesterday look nervous, but not surprised.

 

“Th…this can’t be right,” Kuzuryuu growls, his hands clenched into tight fists as his body trembles. “There’s hardly anything there.”

 

One of the nurses bravely steps forward, bowing slightly. “Kuzuryuu-san, there is no mistake. This is a typical x-ray seen in brain-dead patients.

 

Souda is the one shaking his head the most violently. “No—no, this is crap! It makes no sense at all! Looking at these scans, they shouldn’t even be able tohave a _heartbeat!_ This isn’t possible!”

 

“Souda,” Hinata says finally, not wanting to hear where else this would go. He is trying his best not to look at the X-rays. “You knew before we even got out of the game that this would happen. We were prepared for the worst, weren’t we? We need to figure out what is happening with each of these scans and…and then move on to the next step on figuring out what we need to fix them.”

 

Souda looks at everyone helplessly, and Hinata can feel the morale of the group starting to crack. For so long, they were trying to stick together and stay strong just on the foundation of their friendship. It was how they managed to get out of the game with their memories intact; it was how they were able to accept the horrors of their past, for the sake of the future…for the sake of saving their friends….

 

 _Damn it, Souda,_ Hinata thinks frustratedly. If _he_ was having serious doubts, the one who could potentially fix them all, then nobody would believe it could be done!

 

“We can continue to feed them intravenously,” the nurse continues softly. “And keep them as comfortable as possible, until you decide—”

 

“No.”

 

Everyone turns to look at Owari, who is glaring at the nurse. “This means nothing. It just means we have to train ourselves harder to find out how to save them. Nidai is still breathing, Ibuki and Saionji and Koizumi are _still breathing_ , and I will be damned if I let some stupid drawings on a piece of paper stop me from helping them wake up!”

 

They stare at Owari in stunned silence. “Let’s go to the breakfast hall again,” Sonia says firmly, a spark of life returning to her eyes. “We’ll take these scans with us and try to understand where we can go from here.” Without waiting for a response, Sonia strides towards where the X-ray scans were being displayed, and one by one she takes them off the light. “Let me help,” Kuzuryuu says, and he reaches up and starts taking them down with her.

 

“Let’s go,” Owari growls in that invigorating way that always makes Hinata feel like it’s the perfect time to start running a marathon, but Hinata brushes the thought away and nods. They leave the hospital and cross the bridge back to the first island, and spread the scans all over the breakfast table.

 

“I’ll bring some of the medical texts we’ve been looking through,” Sonia says brightly, and she quickly sprints out of the room with her long blonde hair trailing behind her in a flash.

 

“Which one’s which?” Owari scratches her head as she looks at the X-rays.

 

“The names are labeled on the bottom. See that little white strip down there?” Souda points to one of them.

 

“Yeah…” Owari nods. “Is it me, or…? Is this one the worst-looking of them all?” Owari’s voice lowers. “They’re all bad, I know…but this one is almost entirely black.”

 

“That’s Komaeda’s X-ray,” Souda says quietly as he leans down to read the name. “Maybe it’s reflective on how severely they died? Killing himself must’ve been worse than being murdered…”

 

“It’s not that,” Hinata says suddenly. He is staring at Komaeda’s X-ray in shock, a feeling of dread steadily creeping inside him and closing around his heart, causing his chest to tighten. “I…At the time he said it, I didn’t believe him…you know how he says things in a way that makes you think he’s always lying to you…but he told me that before he got into Hope’s Peak Academy he was already dying. He had lymphoma and dementia…and you can tell now.”

 

“Cancer? Komaeda has cancer?!” Souda exclaims in shock.

 

“I-I don’t know for certain about that,” Hinata says quickly. “For all we know, during his time at Hope’s Peak they might’ve cured him. But dementia…it’s clearly there. Even before he was killed, a large part of his brain cells had already died.”

 

“So that’s why…” Kuzuryuu trails, his eyes transfixed on Komaeda’s X-rays.

 

“Do you think…that’s why…he acted the way he did?” Owari asks hesitantly. “And to have known already, from the beginning, that he was dying…”

 

“Shit, no wonder he was always asking us to kill him,” Souda curses as he looks away from Komaeda’s X-rays. “Shit!”

 

“Did something happen?” Sonia asks in confusion as she reenters the breakfast hall.

 

“Later,” Kuzuryuu says quietly.

 

“Okay,” Souda shakes his head hard, trying to focus on what was in front of him. “Well. From what I know so far, these black regions mean that area is definitely dead. Dead as in, the cells there have necrosed and can’t ever be used again.”

 

“Please tell me there’s a ‘but’ in here somewhere,” Owari mutters under her breath.

 

“ _But_ , thanks to whatever technology was in those capsules, it preserved their brains and continued the blood flow so that it didn’t swell up so much, but even that isn’t perfect. They can’t breathe on their own…ah, this gets really technical, you won’t understand…”

 

“Spit it out!” Kuzuryuu shouts, and Souda flinches wildly.

 

“J-jeez! What I’m trying to say is that some parts are still damaged—the brain stem for example, since they can’t breathe on their own. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be fixed! I mean, it can already do everything else—they still have a heartbeat, they still carry out their metabolic functions. It’s salvageable, don’t you see? Everything’s still there, I mean usually if it was dead then it starts to rot away, kind of like Komaeda’s here has. But—but everything is preserved, and all we need to do…is figure out how to restart every single one of those neurons.”

 

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Kuzuryuu asks bluntly. “How do you bring back something that’s already died?”

 

“I’m…still working on it,” Souda admits, looking down at the X-rays with a hard expression. In that moment Hinata sympathized with Souda. For someone who was constantly the least cared for in the group, the fate of their friends’ lives rested entirely on his shoulders. Only he could figure out a link to bringing everyone back.

 

“You’re not in this alone,” Hinata reassures. “We will stay up every night it necessary to find out the missing link in this. We will help bring our friends back.”

 

“So there’s still a chance?” asks Sonia, looking from person to person. Her hands are clasped tightly together, her knuckles going even paler. “Saving our friends…there’s still a chance it will work?”

 

Souda gives a small smile. “There’s always a chance, Sonia-san.”

 

**-:-**

 

This is what he’s been afraid of. Ever since he woke up, ever since he took his first breath and his reality shattered into hundreds of fragments, he has been afraid. He is drifting, as if an icy hand was clenched around his heart and making it harder and harder for him to wake up each morning and find a reason to continue his pursuit of finding in incurable cure.

 

Hinata slams closed the textbook he’s been trying to read for the past three hours. “What is the point?” he hisses out loud. His eyes land on the file sitting idly on his bedside table.

 

A feeling of cold dread freezes him, until he has to look away. His heart is pounding, and Hinata quickly stands up and shoves the file inside the drawer.  

 

A few minutes pass by until Hinata’s heart stops racing. The misery that was pooling in his stomach has vanished. He is Hajime Hinata again, and he finally understands why Kirigiri trusted him with that file.

 

Grabbing the textbook, Hinata strides out of his room and within moments, he is in front of Komaeda’s. Gone is the agonizing hesitation before entering Komaeda’s room; Hinata doesn’t pause when he reaches for the handle and swings the door open.

 

“I’m ba—ah!”

 

“Pardon me, Hajime-san,” a nurse bows quickly. “I was just finishing changing Nagito-san’s gown. I’ll be going now.”

 

“N-no, you don’t have to—” Hinata holds out his hand, but the door closes quickly and he is alone in the room. He can feel heat creeping up his neck and Hinata scowls. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” says Hinata gruffly, taking a seat by the bed.

 

Hinata opens his mouth to speak, but finds that words will not come out. Instead, he gazes at Komaeda again. The same white, wild hair that still did not lose its luster, the same pale skin and bandaged hand. To Hinata, it still appeared as if Komaeda had fallen into a deep sleep, and at any moment he would open his eyes and give that stupid carefree smile he always gave at the most inappropriate situations.

 

But the days have gone by, and Komaeda remains still and silent. The ventilator continues working tirelessly to fill air into Komaeda’s lungs. Souda had said that everyone’s brain stems were at least partially damaged, since none can breathe on their own. But they still could continue out the rest of their vital functions, which meant a good chunk of the brain stem did not die when his friends were murdered in the game.

 

Komaeda’s brain scans though…just thinking about it makes Hinata feel nauseous. “You were telling the truth,” Hinata says quietly. Komaeda remains silent. For the first time ever, he sorely wishes he didn’t. “You really did have cancer. And you really do have dementia. Everything you said…was all of it actually true?” Hinata shakes his head vigorously. “Why did you always make it seem like you were lying? Why did you always rile us up to make us hate you?”

 

The questions tumble out in a rushed frenzy, but deep inside, Hinata already knows all of their answers. He does not understand Komaeda fully (he doesn’t think anyone ever could), but he understands his reasoning.

 

Hinata takes a shaky breath, and forces himself to look at Komaeda again. “Does…does that mean, what you said before…?”

 

Komaeda exhales loudly. The monitors continue to beep. Hinata stares at Komaeda, the textbook in his hand forgotten, and stands. Setting the book onto the bedside table, Hinata hovers over Komaeda’s still form and watches him contemplatively. He looks down as if gathering strength, and reaches hesitantly towards the mass of tangled hair. He brushes against it lightly at first, then leans further to run his fingers through his hair that feels like silk to his skin.

 

“Your hair’s surprisingly soft, considering what it looks like,” Hinata mutters grudgingly. “I can see what you mean about that ‘good luck, bad luck’ theory. Bad luck with the appearance, good look with the texture.” Hinata removes his hand, thinking to himself. “I don’t mind how it looks, though. It looks nice on you.”

 

The moment the words leave his lips, Hinata’s eyes widen. _What?_

 

_What?_

_What?_

 

“What?” he whispers incredulously. He looks at Komaeda again. The warm feeling inside him still agrees with what he said earlier. Hinata scowls. “No. _No_. Why?”

 

Komaeda continues lying serenely below him, and Hinata’s scowl deepens. “This. Is all your fault. This is the second time you’ve pissed me off this week. How the hell will I do this when you’re awake again?”

 

The monitor beeps. “Yeah, you think on that.” Hinata crosses his arms. The IV bag shivers as another droplet falls from the needle. The quiet stillness of the room contrasts sharply with the myriad of thoughts swirling in his mind. Then, without much afterthought, Hinata follows a sudden impulse and leans down to quickly press his lips to Komaeda’s forehead.

 

The door suddenly opens, and Souda appears with a wild look in his eyes.

 

“Souda?” Hinata jumps in surprise, taking a quick step away from Komaeda’s bed.

 

“I—I—I—” Souda’s eyes are wide in pure shock, and his body is heaving from trying to catch his breath.

 

“Did you just run here? Never mind,” Hinata waves the question away as Souda tries and fails to speak again. “Just—just calm down. What is it? Did something happen?” A feeling of absolute terror instantly fills Hinata’s heart. No…no…what if another friend was found murdered? What if…what if none of this was real either? Hinata’s palms begin to sweat as his body trembles with fear and adrenaline.

 

“I—” Souda swallows hard, looking at Hinata with crazed eyes. “I figured it out. I found a solution. I figured out how to fix them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support my friends :)


	3. Turbulence

**Chapter 3: Turbulence**

**-:-**

 

The telephone slams down onto the receiver as Kuzuryuu finishes the last of his expletives. “Piece of shit mother _fucker_ ,” he kicks the table viciously and drops down into a chair with a surly expression. “The asshole doesn’t believe us! Can you believe it? He literally didn’t even want to hear what we had to say. So much for fucking allies.”

 

“It may have gone better if you hadn’t started shouting at him the moment he picked up the phone,” Sonia says evenly, but her dark expression dwarfs the calmness of her voice. “You should have let me speak with him. As I requested once we all learned the news. But you did not listen.”

 

Kuzuryuu raises an eyebrow, and shifts uncomfortably. “How was I to know the bastard wouldn’t even speak with me? _Nobody_ hangs up on a Yakuza.”

 

“You fucked up, kid!” Owari says indignantly. “No one cares about you being a Yakuza! We lost our only chance!”

 

“No, we haven’t,” Hinata finally intervenes. “Someone else just has to call them in a few hours. They’ll listen then.”

 

“We don’t _have_ a few hours,” Souda says angrily. “Now that I know what to do, we need to work on this fast. I factored in the variables already, and reconstructed my initial design into these notes—everything’s here! We have to try this now!”

 

“Our friends aren’t going anywhere,” Hinata snaps. “You need to be patient and wait for us to talk to them again.”

 

Souda glares silently at him, which Hinata promptly ignores. They only last about three minutes before Sonia jumps out of her seat and strides to the phone.

 

“W-wait—”

 

Sonia does not listen. With graceful fingers she picks up the phone, presses a button, and waits. Hinata hears a voice come through the other hand, and Sonia lifts her chin.

 

“You must return back to this island now. Quickly. We are ready to move on to the next step. I will see you in a few days. _I will_ see you in a few days.”

 

The response is brief, and Sonia replaces the phone on the receiver. Hinata gazes at her, wondering if he had ever seen her more regal than she is right now. Souda, Kuzuryuu, and Owari stare at her, dumbstruck. Sonia calmly returns to her seat, crosses her legs, and smiles happily.

 

“They’re on their way!”

 

**-:-**

 

“I think the question now,” says Togami finally, after remaining quiet for the majority of the day, “is who will be first?”

 

The question rings deep, filled with problematic scenarios. Who _will_ they operate on first? How can anyone decide that? Perhaps in the order of death? Perhaps who they want to see come back first?

 

There is an imperiously dark side to the question, and perhaps the most important: what if the first trial went wrong? What if, despite Souda’s best calculations, despite the tireless discussions and questions and contemplations they’ve been having for the past three days, the operation fails? Who do they condemn to an irreversible procedure that could kill them even further? Where there would be nothing left to do but have mercy, to turn off the machines and—

 

Hinata closes his eyes and stops. He doesn’t want to think about this. But no matter how much he tries to block the dark thoughts, they continue to spiral him deeper and deeper into a tumultuous oblivion, until his hands are tightly gripping the oaken wood of his chair and his nails embed faintly into the varnish.

 

“Maybe…” Hinata hears Souda say tentatively. A conflicted expression crosses his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t jump straight into human trials? I-I mean, isn’t that what people usually do before testing out a product? You run a trial?”

 

“And on what do you propose we run trials on?” asks Kirigiri bluntly, crossing her arms gently. “I suppose…if you prefer it, there can be small animals brought in to test on …you would first replicate the injuries to their brains and then operate, of course.”

 

“R-replicate?” Sonia repeats, her eyes widening in disbelief. “You want more creatures to suffer as we suffered? This is unreasonable! I will not have it!” Her arms tighten around her middle, and Hinata wonders briefly if Tanaka’s hamsters were hidden under there with her.

 

“If you don’t, then you must face the consequences by attempting the procedure on one of your friends first,” Togami snaps with an irritated scowl. “There is no easy way out. The choice is yours.”

 

Hinata looks at Kuzuryuu, Owari, Souda, and then Sonia. None of them raise their eyes or suggest any solution. He imagines them to be thinking about those they love most, and if they could be selfish enough to volunteer them to go first—or be selfish enough to keep them from having anything done to them first.

 

Hinata’s thoughts are interrupted as Kuzuryuu suddenly speaks. “It should be the one who will have the most difficult procedure. The one whose scans are most problematic.” With conviction, he looks up. “It should be Komaeda.”

 

Hinata’s insides turn to ice. “Wh-what? Why?” Owari blurts.

 

“Doesn’t it make sense? If we want to be sure this thing will work, we have to first do it on the hardest patient. That way we’re guaranteed that the procedure will work on everybody else, if it can work on them.” Kuzuryuu reaches across the table and picks up an X-ray scan. “Out of all of our friends, Komaeda’s condition is the worst. He should be treated first.”

 

Hinata leans back stiffly in his seat. What Kuzuryuu was saying….made sense…but…?

 

“I…agree.”

 

Souda’s head whips around so fast that Hinata is surprised he doesn’t hear it crack. “S-Sonia-san?”

 

Sonia shifts her gaze uncomfortably while clasping her hands tightly, in an almost-pleading gesture. “Komaeda-kun…undoubtedly has the worst condition out of all of our friends. I believe Kuzuryuu-san’s logic is correct—the worst patient must be treated first, so as to ensure a foolproof procedure for everyone else.”

 

Togami looks over to Owari. “Any objections?”

 

Owari blinks, as if surprised that anyone would ask her for her opinion. She straightens slightly in her seat and absently scratches her ear. “Ah…I think they’re right too…I don’t know much about it, but it makes sense to me.”

 

He nods, and shifts his gaze to Souda. “And you?”

 

Souda bristles slightly. “Yeah, it sounds fine with me. If we ain’t using animals, Komaeda’s the next best thing.”

 

Hinata’s expression darkens. What the fuck was _that_ supposed to mean?

 

“And you, Hinata?” Naegi asks him. Hinata tears his eyes away from Souda and looks at Naegi. “Do you have any objections?”

 

_Yes. No. Don’t ask me_. “No. I don’t,” says Hinata quietly, and looks away.

 

**-:-**

 

 

“Are you upset?”

 

The question is so sudden and in such close proximity that Hinata does a double take. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore apparently blocked out the sound of Sonia approach. She sits beside him, folding her legs delicately atop the soft sand. Her blonde hair sways as the cool breeze picks up, and she turns to glance at him, waiting.

 

“No,” says Hinata honestly. “I’m not upset. I’m not anything, really…not right now.”

 

“Hm.” Sonia looks to the sea distantly. “I feel the same, Hinata-kun.”

 

“You do?”

 

Sonia nods. “Ever since I woke up inside that capsule, I haven’t known what to feel—if I have the right to feel anger, or pain, after what I’ve done. Sometimes when I start feeling upset or when I visit our friends and think how unfair it all is, I stop. And slowly…the feeling disappears, and all I have left is determination to keep trying to get through each day.”

 

She glances at Hinata and he is startled at the blankness, and if he looks closely enough he can almost see her battling to keep her expression composed. “Because when I get upset, I remember—who am I to be angry? The world is the way it is because of _us_. We helped it reach this chaos. We say we’re saving our friends but I can never forget what we truly are. We’re—we’re murderers saving murderers. That’s how we’re designed. We can’t change what we were….So, after all of that, I am left like this. Like you, Hinata-kun. I’m not really anything either.”

 

Hinata reaches over and grabs Sonia’s shoulder, forcing her to look at him. She looks surprised at first, as if no one had ever dared touch her unannounced like this before. But Hinata pays it no attention.

 

“You’re right. We can’t change who we were. It’s a part of us, and it always will be. We did…awful things, Sonia. A group of teenagers were the foundation of human destruction.” Hinata shakes his head. “But we know this already, and we knew it when we got out of that game. We can’t change who we were before, or what we did in the past, but we _can_ change who we are now. We control our every action, and we can change our future. If I sat here thinking about every awful thing I did as…Kamukura,” Sonia’s eyes automatically focus on his irises, and they soften with sympathy. Hinata wants to look away or close his eyes as shame pours through him like poison, but instead he forces himself to remain still. “If I did that, I would probably revert back into him thinking that that’s who I really am underneath, and that’s who I’ll always be. And while that’s true—I am not Kamukura. My actions prove otherwise.” Hinata drops his hand back to his side. “Don’t be a slave to your memories.”

 

Sonia and Hinata sit in companionable silence for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon and the waves continue to crash onto the shore. Sonia takes a deep breath, and asks softly, “Are you upset, then, Hinata-kun?”

 

Hinata’s fingers curl into tight fists, watching as his veins strain against his skin. He nods slowly.

 

“I think I—I think I am too,” she finally admits tremulously, her calm exterior crumbling. Her eyes are wide and fearful as she clasps her hands and closes in on herself, as if the world was crushing her at every side and forcing her to become as small as possible. “I am afraid of what those doctors are doing inside the hospital right now. I’m even more afraid that Souda-san might be wrong, and that Komaeda-san will die.”  


“You would care if he died?” Hinata asks curiously, before he can stop himself.

 

Sonia’s expression twists in shock, then anger. “Of course I would care! He’s still our friend, no matter what! How…how could anyone still blame him for how he acted in the game?” She looks away, visibly disturbed. “His death wouldn’t bring me any satisfaction.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” Hinata mutters quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed. But…what else was he supposed to think? Apart from him and Sonia, nobody else really visited Komaeda’s room. And what Souda had said back there…‘ _If we ain’t using animals, Komaeda’s the next best thing_.’…

 

“We need to figure out how to explain everything to him when he wakes up,” Sonia says, her brow furrowing. “He—he tried killing all of us because he found out we were killers, right? We have to show him that things aren’t like that anymore; that _he’s_ not like that anymore either.” She smiles hesitantly. “It’ll take time, but we’ll get through to him.”

 

“Yeah,” replies Hinata quietly and looks away, perturbed. He imagines Komaeda awake, and it fills him with fear. Why? Why is the thought only occurring to him now…Komaeda could be awake soon, and Hinata….

 

“Pardon me,” a voice says suddenly behind them, and Sonia and Hinata turn around. A nurse is standing before them, and she bows quickly. “I’ve come to inform you that after thirty-two hours, the operation is finally complete. Nagito-san is stable and back in his room.”

 

“When will he wake up?” Hinata asks immediately, rising to his feet and brushing off the sand from his pants. “Why did it take so long?”

 

“Is he alright? Did anything happen during the procedure?” Sonia asks anxiously.

 

The nurse bows slightly again. “I’m afraid only the doctors can answer that. If you’d please come with me, you can see them now. Your friends are already waiting for you.”

 

“A-alright,” Hinata answers slowly, looking unsurely at Sonia. The walk to the hospital is brief and silent. Hinata glances furtively at Sonia, and sees her grim expression with her chin raised high. He knows if he reaches out to touch her hand, it would be trembling as much as his.

 

They reach the lobby of the hospital and find Kuzuryuu, Owari, and Souda sitting anxiously together.

 

“About time,” Kuzuryuu hisses, his arms folded angrily. “What took you so long?”

 

“We were near the shore,” Sonia explains, not bothering to sit down.

 

“Could it be, that you two—” Souda has a panicked look come over him, and Hinata wants to roll his eyes. Sonia’s eyes narrow while pointedly ignoring the comment as always.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Souda, now’s not the time,” Owari snaps angrily. “Alright, everyone’s here, where are the doctors? Haven’t we waited long enough?”

 

“I will inform them that everyone has arrived. They’ll be here shortly,” the nurse assures, and quickly disappears down the hall. Kuzuryuu makes a sound of annoyance.

 

“Typical. The staff is always so damn useless,” Kuzuryuu mutters under his breath. His fingers tap anxiously on his arm to an unknown beat, and he glances every few seconds down the corridor until turning away in disgust.

 

It takes ten minutes for the surgeons to appear walking down the corridor towards the lobby. Kuzuryuu is on his feet in an instant, not bothering to wait for them to reach the lobby and instead strides to meet them halfway.

 

“Well?” Kuzuryuu demands. “The nurses said he’s stable. What the hell happened in there? Why did it take so long? When’s Komaeda waking up?”

 

“All of your questions will be answered soon enough,” the surgeon replies. His eyes are sharp and grey, matching the shade of his hair. He looks worn and tired, as if the procedure aged him considerably. Hinata remembers him to be someone Togami mentioned with more praise than usual, someone who had helped them recover their own memories.

 

There were ten surgeons in total, all of whom were gathering around the lobby while still in their surgical ware. The head surgeon who had answered Kuzuryuu stands directly before them.

 

“The procedure of Nagito Komaeda was, as previously predicted, more complicated than the rest of the patients will be. As you know, he suffered from frontotemporal dementia before his brain shut down completely. There are parts even modern medicine could not salvage. What’s lost is lost. However,” the surgeon pauses, to catch his breath or for dramatic effect, Hinata doesn’t know, “With careful reinsertion of _tau_ -proteins to more recently afflicted areas, as well as following the procedure detailed by Souda-san, we were able to successfully salvage and restart both hemispheres.”

 

“It worked?” Kuzuryuu repeats. “It really—it really worked? He’ll wake up and be normal again?”

 

“That is our hope,” another surgeon assures behind them. Hinata doesn’t ask what ‘normal’ and ‘Komaeda’ means to Kuzuryuu. “We did everything carefully and meticulously. Now it is up to Nagito-san, if he wakes up or not.”

 

“Oh, he’ll wake up,” Owari reassures, and fraction of a smile tugging at her lips. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“Ah, I’m not sure you can actually do that, Owari-san,” Sonia mentions good-naturedly. “But, more importantly, can we see him?”

 

“He’s still recovering…but I don’t see why visiting him briefly will do him any further harm. Do not disturb him or move him in any way. He’s in a very critical stage right now,” the head surgeon replies gravely.

 

“We’ll be careful,” Sonia promises, barely able to contain herself. There is a veritable brightness in the air, surrounding them in soft warmth and the smallest glimmer of hope. It makes Hinata feel airy and light as he hasn’t felt in ages. It’s enough to bring the faintest of smiles out of Kuzuryuu, a look of confidence and joy from Souda, and a determined calmness inside Owari. It’s enough to make Hinata smile widely and stand, lifting his chin. “Let’s go see him.”

 

**-:-**

Hinata remembers a time when sitting still for longer than five minutes would reduce him into a dysfunctional pain in the ass.

 

The less he thinks about his past the more he remembers of it. Each day brings a new scene, a new Hinata, a warped Kamukura. Sometimes he sees himself sitting in a desk with a pencil clenched so tightly that he feels it indenting into his skin. Sometimes he’ll see bits of a school yard, vast and green and prestigious with the sun shining brilliantly down him, and for some reason while he’s there he can feel nothing but pure malice, hot as the light of the stars. The memories come back to him sporadically and slowly and never making any sense, and Hinata doesn’t know whether he likes this trend or loathes its onslaught.

 

Regardless, he’s sitting quietly and patiently beside Komaeda today, but he feels like a child again where there’s nothing he’d rather do than to vault out of the chair in antsy anticipation and perform an acrobatic anomaly to pass the time. Ever since Komaeda returned from surgery, his room was constantly occupied by at least one person throughout the day. Sonia stays the longest, then Kuzuryuu, then Souda, and Owari unintentionally the least because she was always hungry, and always impatient to stay in one place for too long.

 

It is while he’s sitting there in the stiff chair, one hand flipping idly through a book he’s read a dozen times already, that one of the memories decide to appear. It’s one he’s seen already, _the_ one.

 

_A mess of white hair and a pleasant smile appears in his vision. “Well, as the world is ruled by the majority ... I suppose we can’t help it if it returns to the hands of the talentless.”_

_He looks away, unimpressed…bored, unimpressed, waiting…Komaeda looks at him with a wistful smile. “Do you think we’ll meet again?”_

The words reverberate in Hinata’s mind over and over as the memory fades… _do you think we’ll meet again? Do you think we’ll meet again…?_

“This is much more boring than I expected it would be,” he hears, and Hinata gasps. His eyes snap up and see Komaeda staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. “Too much grey…far too much, far too much, far too much…”

 

“K-Komaeda?” Hinata manages to stammer. His heart is thudding wildly. His hands are shaking. Komaeda looks slowly over at Hinata, staring at him as if not completely comprehending what he is seeing.

 

“So it worked,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes roving down Hinata in a speculative way that in any other situation would’ve sent him into a deep red flush. “I’m a little sad…but more happy, I have to admit…not even for you can I lie about that, ha ha…” A serious look overcomes him. “It wasn’t personal, you know? It just had to be done?”

 

Hinata is struggling to keep up with what Komaeda was saying, but none of it made any sense. What wasn’t personal? What worked? Hinata shakes his head distractedly and half lifts himself to lean over the edge of the bed, his hand gripping the mattress tightly.

“You’re okay now,” Hinata reassures quietly. Looking at Komaeda, he tries not to focus on the red-stained bandage around his head, but instead into his sea green eyes that were, for the first time, open and alive. Hinata can tell now—how could he have ever thought that the game was reality? How could he have ever looked into these eyes and thought they were anything but a simulation? Because _this_ —this was reality. The frayed green formation in his irises like a star bursting to life…the depth of life beneath their gaze… _this_ was real.

 

Hinata knows he has to spring into action now, and he doesn’t waste any more time. “I’m going to leave for just a second to call the rest over here, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”

 

Komaeda lifts up his hand and grabs Hinata’s arm, shocking him into stillness. He didn’t think he’d be able to move that quickly (or at all) so soon after the procedure—it’s only been what, a week?

 

“You don’t have to,” replies Komaeda plainly. He smiles weakly, but cheerfully, as his grip loosens to join with Hinata’s hand. Hinata’s eyes widen and he takes an involuntary step back. “We’re dead now, don’t you see? We’re here together. We don’t have to do anything.”

 

Hinata’s brows knit together, frowning deeply. He looks down at their hands tangled loosely together, with Komaeda’s grip weakening by the second. His eyes travel back up to the bandaged face, and realization dawns on him with cold clarity.

 

“Komaeda…you’re not dead.”

 

The words don’t even faze him. “Don’t be silly, Hinata. Come on, sit with me.”

 

Hinata gently eases his hand from Komaeda’s, and takes another step back. “Komaeda. Look at me. Look at this room. This…is real. I’m real. You didn’t die. None of us did.”

 

The light slowly dims in Komaeda’s eyes. He appraises himself and his surroundings again, more thoroughly than the first time.

 

“No…then…it didn’t work? Everyone survived? This,” his eyes dart around the room frantically. “This is the hospital on Jabberwock Island. I really am alive.”

 

Hinata pauses. Shit…shit he hasn’t thought this through enough yet. Komaeda wasn’t supposed to wake up this early, because they haven’t figured out how to slowly explain everything to Komaeda (and the rest of their friends once they wake up) about what exactly happened on Dangan Island in the game. And now—now looking at Komaeda, who has gone deathly still, Hinata can’t help the thought of ‘I fucked up, I fucked up big time’ to repeat in his head.

 

What should he say? How can he explain this in a reasonable way that will keep Komaeda calm? “Yes, b-but this isn’t what you think it is. We’re not exactly what you—shit! Komaeda!”

 

Komaeda’s uncanny ability to do and say the most horrific things with the calmest of expressions is always what made Hinata uncomfortable. In a sudden flurry of movement, Komaeda reaches to his forehead and tries to rip off the wrappings. He is thwarted at first, being of one hand and having wrappings that were securely fastened around him. Hinata doesn’t know what will happen if he succeeds in removing the bandage, but he knows enough to understand that doing so would not be good.

 

Komaeda’s legs jolt slightly as he tries to tear off the bandages. “Fuck, Komaeda just—calm down! Calm down!” Hinata grabs Komaeda’s wrist and pins it to the bed, one knee resting on the mattress for support. Like a switch, Komaeda becomes passive and motionless, looking at Hinata contemplatively.

 

“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Could it be? You are concerned?”

 

“Am I—” Hinata is boiling with anger now, and he remembers why he was always so angry at Komaeda during the game. He—he was such a little shit!

 

Yet, despite it all, Hinata forces himself to breathe evenly, and think carefully before opening his mouth. “If you just wait,” Hinata grits his teeth, “I will _tell_ you everything that’s happened. I just need to…” Hinata glances up, noting the little red button above the bed. He reaches over and presses it before quickly replacing it on Komaeda’s wrist again. “There. I don’t have to leave the room. But everyone will be coming soon, so it makes no real difference anyway. Are you going to try to remove those bandages again?”

 

Komaeda tilts his head. “Do you not want me to?”

 

“I would appreciate it a lot if you didn’t.”

 

Komaeda looks away, as if pretending to consider his words. “I suppose…I could hold off…”

 

“Thanks,” Hinata mutters shortly, annoyed. He releases his hold on Komaeda and settles back down in his chair. Komaeda looks at him cheerfully. “So, how did you escape? I’m afraid I was a bit—ah—incapacitated at the time to know.”

 

“I—hold on.” Hinata narrows his eyes. “Did you do all of that on purpose?”

 

Komaeda smiles, not saying a word.

 

Hinata glares and looks away. “I was wrong. I will never understand you.”

 

“Are you angry with me?” asks Komaeda innocently. “Is that what’s happened to you, now? Did monobear make you Super High School Level Anger, and give you red eyes?”

 

Hinata stiffens instantly. It’s as if a cold block of ice had slipped down his throat, and filled him with a chill that leaves him frozen to the bone. He lowers his eyes and folds his arms over his torso, not knowing why he wants to hide himself, and from _Komaeda_ of all people. “No, that’s not it. It’s something much worse.”

 

**-:-**

Komaeda wasn’t getting a word in. Ten doctors, twenty nurses, the hospital staff, and eight survivors of a post-apocalyptic world are crowding around Komaeda, and Hinata has never seen him so confused.

 

Komaeda is nervous when Sonia bursts into tears and throws herself onto his chest, clutching onto him as if he was just a pile of dust waiting to be blown away. He uses his bandaged wrist to awkwardly pat her shoulder, but Hinata can see the frightened, caged animal look written on Komaeda’s face. He is quiet and hesitant and utterly confused about why he is getting so much attention, and how other people have suddenly appeared on the island.

 

Souda punches Komaeda’s arm lightly, Kuzuryuu says something vaguely insulting yet endearing, and Owari challenges him to a fast recovery. It feels almost peaceful.

 

“Ah—is this really safe to do right now?” Komaeda smiles unsurely. “With so many people, Monobear is sure to catch on to what is happening…”

 

That silences them all immediately. Souda turns to Hinata to give him an accusing look (one of many that night), but says nothing. Words are spoken. Disbelief is etched onto Komaeda like the very flesh over his bones and muscles. Hinata can see it clear as day—he’s not believing a word. Their story is too fantastical. And if he does believe it, he’s creating alternate realities for why they were telling him such a fantastical story.

 

…Or so Hinata thinks; because for so long Hinata, can only think of how _he_ would behave in that situation, how _he_ perceives everybody else and their realities, and doesn’t realize the gross miscalculation error he produces whenever trying to understand Komaeda. Perhaps out of the group, he knows Komaeda the best. To some degree, he can predict what Komaeda is thinking or how he thinks—but Komaeda is versatile, malleable, changeable, always shifting form in chameleonic ways that leave Hinata exhausted and confused.

 

Komaeda never speaks or acts without reason. Even the stunt a few minutes ago had a purpose. Hinata should have understood that from the beginning. He’s seeing it now, at least, and he understands slowly.  

 

“This…would explain the change in appearance,” Komaeda allows, looking from person to person. Hinata tries not to notice how his gaze lingers a fraction longer on him. “Among other things, of course.”

 

They don’t tell him _everything,_ though. Not right away. Komaeda’s tired and lethargic suddenly, to the point where the hospital staff are urgently ushering everybody out, Komaeda-san needs plenty of rest, and he will still be in this bed tomorrow. Hinata stands up to leave too.

 

“Won’t you stay a little longer, Hinata?” Komaeda asks him before Hinata can take a single step. “There’s still more I want to know.”

 

Hinata glances at the nurse standing by his bed, and sighs when she gives him a stern look. “Doesn’t look like I have any other choice right now than to leave. I’ll be back tomorrow morning though…although I suspect everybody else to be, too.”

 

Komaeda doesn’t say anything. Hinata leaves the room without looking back, and despite the worry and the fear that was quickly burrowing in his heart, Hinata smiles broadly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to everyone who's given this story a chance and is reading! I'm so happy you all like it! Please let me know what you think so far!


	4. Incident

**Chapter 4: Incident**

**-:-**

 

A white ceiling and brilliant sunshine marks another morning where Hinata wakes up and thinks about going to the hospital.

 

The island is buzzing with excitement. Ever since Komaeda awoke, there hasn’t been a moment’s rest; nurses and doctors walk in and out of Komaeda’s room, gathering around his EKGs, staring in wonder at his miraculous recovery. It is slow and still very fragile, but the fact that Komaeda was awake and able to speak and move and think critically leads to a unanimous conclusion that the operation was a success.

 

Kuzuryuu wanted to operate immediately on the next comatose friend, but the doctors were having none of it. “We must wait and observe Komaeda’s recovery before we move forward,” they would explain, not glancing up from their work. “Imagine if he suddenly regresses? We can’t put nine people at risk because we were impatient.”

 

It did not matter anyway. As quickly as Komaeda had woken up, he went back into a deep sleep. In fact, five days passed of Komaeda returning to a full stasis before he would speak again.

 

Hinata is staring blankly at the ceiling, books littered around his bed, when he decides to get up. In ten minutes he’s ready and out the door, walking along the beach and heading towards the hospital, and in fifteen he’s entering the hospital. He’s surprised at the frenzy he finds there—nurses are dashing before him and technicians are tucking away their equipment into closets.

 

The door behind him clicks, and Hinata turns around and tugs at the handle. Locked.

 

“What the hell…?” Hinata frowns deeply.

 

“Hey, Hinata!” Souda sidles next to him, hands tucked into his pockets. “Crazy shit’s going on.”

 

“What happened?” he asks.

 

“They can’t find Komaeda,” he says. Hinata blanches.

 

“ _What?_ ” Hinata exclaims. “They lost him?”

 

“I came here a few minutes ago and one of the nurses said he disappeared,” Souda shrugs. “He was in bed sleeping one moment and the next, gone. Sounds just like Komaeda.”

 

“And now they’re locking down the hospital,” Hinata concludes, glancing back at the locked entrance door. He starts walking, then; briskly at first and then a fast sprint. He reaches Komaeda’s room, which is unlocked and wide open. There’s no one inside, no remnant of Komaeda ever being in here other than wrinkled bed sheets and an indent on the pillow. He strides to the monitors and sees wires in disarray that had been connected to Komaeda.

 

“Sir, you can’t be in here,” a nurse calls, and starts to pull him away. Hinata rounds on her.

 

“Was his brain activity being monitored?” Hinata demands. The nurse is momentarily stunned, and stutters, “Y-yes, of course.”

 

“Show me the activity in the last hour. And his heart rate monitor in the last hour too.”

 

The nurse is at a loss and almost begins ushering him out, but Hinata breaks away from her grip and shouts, “Just show me!”

 

Startled into work, the nurse quickly prints out the reports and hands it to him. Hinata’s eyes rove over the lines when he suddenly points to the paper.

 

“This, right here. At 6:25am, something changed. What is it?”

 

The nurse frowns at the report, her eyes widening. “It’s…the brain wave has changed. These here are delta waves,” she points to the left. “The deepest sleep wave, which Komaeda’s been in and out of regularly, as normal for the healing process. But at approximately 6:25am, he—well, he woke up.”

 

It is just as Hinata figured. “And the heart rate?”

 

The nurse flips to the next paper and says, “6:25am his heart rate shifted slightly, and then elevated until the wire was pulled off.”

 

“So he wasn’t abducted,” Hinata nods slowly. “I doubted anyone would, but all the same. He just got up and left.” Hinata scowls suddenly. “I thought there was supposed to be tight security on his room!”

 

“There is,” the nurse says shakily. “A guard was stationed by his door all night and through the morning! He just—he vanished.” She shakes her head sadly. “Knowing his past history, he’s probably long gone now…”

 

Hinata shakes his head furiously. He believes her story, of course—as the first patient to successfully heal and wake up, the hospital would ensure maximum security would be in place for his room. But Komaeda had discovered a way out within minutes.

 

“He shouldn’t even be able to move,” the nurse notes in dismay. “His muscles have all but atrophied—”

 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hinata interjects. “The day he woke up, he was able to lift his arm and hold onto me tightly.” Hinata thinks as his eyes begin to dart around the room calculatingly.

 

The nurse raises a placating arm. “We really must go now…”

 

“You can leave,” Hinata replies tersely. “But you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to. I’ve done this before, so I’m going to stay. I need to investigate.”

 

The nurse has given up. Muttering about nonsensical teenagers, she leaves the room and closes the door.

 

Wave upon wave of unwelcome memories resurfaces, and Hinata grits his teeth. This wasn’t like the game; there wasn’t going to be a trial, and there wasn’t a dead body to investigate. It was just an empty room and a very large hospital, of which Komaeda has perfect memory as well.

 

Hinata starts with the most obvious area: the bed. He walks carefully towards it, taking care not to disturb anything. The blanket is whipped to one side and the bed sheets are somewhat pulled down on the opposite, indicating that Komaeda had dragged himself out of bed. His eyes dart around to see if there are any vents big enough that Komaeda could have crawled through, but finds none. Walking along the bed, Hinata stops at the bedside table. At first glance, it didn’t seem as if anything was out of ordinary, but upon further inspection Hinata can tell something is off.

 

The table is slightly moved, and the floor shows scuff marks mixed with perturbed dust. Hinata bends down and runs a finger gently across the floor. Leaning closer to the bottom of the table, he can tell that the leg of the table was moved, and its original position was atop a bright tile compared to the rest of the dull floor. It’d been shoved slightly to the front, as if someone had stumbled against it...

 

Hinata braces his hand against the floor to stand up, and instantly hisses in pain. Scowling, he looks at his palm and finds a tiny shard of glass embedded in his skin. Where the hell did that come from?

 

Hinata glances up at the table dubiously. No…there should have been a vase there. Every patient room has a vase of flowers.

 

Frowning, Hinata looks at the floor again. The shard was right in front of the table and next to the bed.

 

_Could it be…?_ Hinata braces against the floor again and looks underneath the bed.

 

“There,” Hinata murmurs as he reaches forward to grasp a flower petal. The remaining shards and flowers were shoved underneath Komaeda’s bed, as if hastily tucked there. Hinata stands up and wildly looks around the rest of the room, trying to piece everything together. How did Komaeda manage to escape a guarded room without anyone noticing?

 

Hinata looks up to check if there are any security cameras and finds none. It was probably a patient privacy thing. Then again, Hinata isn’t even sure if the rest of the hospital’s cameras were on line—most likely they were not, considering the mass panic.

 

“Why would he try to hide the broken vase though?” Hinata muses aloud. Hinata walks around the bed and towards the bathroom that was attached to the room, finding a toilet and a sink with a trash bin in between them. Hinata frowns when he sees wads of toilet paper towards the brim of the bin. He doesn’t really want to touch whatever is inside, but he can’t shake this feeling—something is definitely wrong. How could the trash bin possibly be filled when Komaeda has been bedridden for days? Pushing aside his reluctance, Hinata picks up the trash bin and upends it.

 

The bin is heavy when he lifts it in the air, and he sees why. Dozens of cleaning supplies tumble down onto the tiled floor, from bleach to disinfectant to hand soap. One of them even lands on Hinata’s foot and he curses loudly, hopping on his uninjured foot. Scowling, Hinata glares at the bottles. “Why would anyone throw these away? They’re almost all new!” His eyes fall to the double-doored cabinet underneath the sink. Crouching down slowly, Hinata opens one of the doors.

 

Empty. Completely empty. Hinata exhales tiredly.

 

A broken vase, cleaning supplies in the trash bin, and an empty sink cabinet. All of these were related to Komaeda’s escape, along with his good fortune that there were no security cameras in the room.

 

Thoughts race through Hinata’s head like a swarm of insects, jumbling together and ringing in his ears. He pats his hand against the sink cabinet idly, noting that it was quite small inside, but big enough for someone to crawl into. Hinata could probably just barely squeeze in….

 

Hinata’s eyes widen.

 

He stumbles to his feet, disoriented, and leaves the bathroom to lean against the wall opposite Komaeda’s bed.

 

Komaeda…above anything else, he was clever in his cleverness. He used the environment to his advantage and always succeeded. This…this had to be no different. Hinata looks down at the floor beneath Komaeda’s bed, remembering the vase he found there…was it to hide the fact that he couldn’t walk properly? Hinata shakes his head in confusion. The staff already knew he would not be able to, his muscles having been in disuse for months.

 

Hinata pauses.

 

Suddenly he’s moving, striding right out the door and frantically searching, until he finds what he’s looking for. A man wearing a blue security guard suit is standing a few feet away, surrounded by doctors and other security guards, and Hinata can tell it’s him. He’s being berated with questions but Hinata approaches the group anyway.

 

“Sorry,” Hinata shoves past a few white coats. “Hey,” Hinata grabs the security guard’s arm. He faces Hinata and frowns.

 

“What do you want?” he snaps.

 

“When you went into Komaeda’s room, where did you look?” Hinata asks quickly.

 

“Look, I’ve already answered these questions already—” the man says irritatedly, but Hinata cuts him short.

 

“Just tell it again!” Hinata realizes he’s quickly losing his patience for people who don’t take him seriously, and doesn’t particularly care. The results are always immediate. The security splutters for a moment and gathers his bearings.

 

“I check his room every half hour, so when I checked it at 7:30, I saw him asleep. When I checked again at 8, he was gone.”

 

Hinata’s expression softens with understanding. “And?”

 

“And I ran inside, what else!” the man growls. “The bed was empty, the bathroom was empty, and there’s no window. He vanished.”

 

“No he didn’t,” Hinata refutes sharply. “He was in the room the entire time.”

 

“What?”

 

The crowd looks at him in disbelief. Hinata wants to roll his eyes. “Did you honestly believe Komaeda disappeared into thin air?”

 

“We presumed he escaped in a strange way…”

 

“He did escape,” Hinata confirms. “But he was in the room the entire time. He figured out the guard checks in every half hour. He went to the bathroom and threw out all the supplies under the sink and hid inside the cabinet. He waited for you to come in,” the security guard widens his eyes and gulps, “and waited for you to flee the room—knowing that in your shock, you would leave the door wide open. And once you were gone, he escaped.” To be fair, though, Hinata guesses that Komaeda _didn’t_ know for a fact that the security guard would leave the door open, but he trusted his good luck to get him out…yet again, he was right….

 

“But that’s—” the guard stutters, “that’s…”

 

“Incredibly simple,” Hinata nods. “He wanted us to think he managed something extremely complicated, but it was wrong to even consider it. He can barely walk, but he made it seem like the opposite—like he’s long gone. But…he’s not,” Hinata bites his lip in thought. “He’s still here, close by.”

 

Hinata closes his eyes tightly in frustration. He’s solved the mystery of Komaeda’s escape but it didn’t bring him any closer to _where_ he was, or why he even did it. He had stumbled against his bedside table in his weakness but quickly covered it up by shoving the vase remains under his bed and then hid in the cabinet, all to escape the room. He’d figured all of this out within an _hour_ of waking up from another coma.

 

Hinata presses his two fingers to the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. Komaeda…where would he try to go? Why did he have to do this way? Hinata turns away from the bewildered group and walks off in the opposite direction.

 

_Where, where…_ Hinata feels like he should know where Komaeda is. No, he definitely knows. Somewhere in his mind, Hinata understands….

 

His feet start to move on their own. The further he walks, the less nurses and doctors and security there are, until he’s in front of a single set of double doors. One of them is slightly ajar—imperceptible to most, but Hinata knows better. He steps forward and presses his hand against a door, and watches it swing open.

 

Streaks of brilliant sunshine are pouring through the high-arched windows, and Hinata’s eyes protest at the change in lighting. He squints and closes the door behind him, facing a large conference table that Hinata has been in several times since the hospital staff came to the island. Bookcases upon bookcases are lined against the walls as well as separate row of desktop computers.

 

It is in this midst of files and chairs that Hinata finds him—hunched over, his hospital gown falling slightly off one shoulder, and staring at a file on his lap. He’s sitting on the floor in front of a shelf that’s been torn into, several binders spread around Komaeda like a protective shield. A computer screen nearby shows a history of medical records. Hinata sees an X-ray scan poking out of a file Komaeda’s already looked through.

 

Now that he’s here, Hinata finds himself unsure what to do.

 

What is he _supposed_ to do? What could he say to him right now? Several things cross his mind but he systematically rejects them one by one, until all that he’s left with is overwhelming distress. Wrestling with these thoughts, Hinata is startled when Komaeda suddenly looks up to face him.

 

“Good morning,” Komaeda says.

 

Hinata blinks. “G-good morning,” he replies slowly as Komaeda smiles. It slips quickly and Komaeda returns his attention to the file in his lap. Silence stretches between them until Hinata is certain Komaeda’s all but forgotten he’s there, being so completely absorbed in the contents of the file. Hinata approaches slowly and hesitates for a second before settling down on the floor in front of him.

 

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Hinata mentions. Komaeda’s lips twitch.

 

“I expected they would.”

 

“You could’ve just waited for them to talk to you,” Hinata presses. Komaeda’s expression does not change. “They would’ve told you about all this,” Hinata gestures at the files, “once they knew you were awake.”

 

Komaeda looks at Hinata plainly. “I wanted to know for myself first. Before anyone could change the story. Do you think that’s unreasonable?”

 

Hinata pauses. “Well…no.”

 

Komaeda’s mouth dips into a frown, then, and suddenly Hinata wants to look away, just like before. He knows why he’s staring; he can feel the questions burning on the tip of Komaeda’s tongue. Just before Hinata gives in to turn away, Komaeda looks back down at the file.

 

“They fixed some of my, ah…other problems,” Komaeda starts as he flips through some pages. “Long, long, long lists of my medical history…it’s amazing to see it from the inside.” Komaeda smiles chillingly. “Hundreds of visits to various doctors, and they all give that same encouraging mantra—I’ll be okay, I’ll be fine—and then you see what they write about your case, and it couldn’t be more different!” He’s laughing jovially and closing the file, stretching his arms above his head and wincing.

 

For the first time since the island simulation, Hinata is at a loss of words. Not because he doesn’t have anything to say—there’s plenty of _that_ —but because he’s fascinated. Hinata can’t help but watch Komaeda and see what he will say next. Seeing him here, waking and blinking and laughing again…it’s much more than the Komaeda in the program. Hinata is absorbing it all ravenously, and it’s the same feeling when he awoke in the capsule and saw all his old friends in the flesh. They were vivid and real, and so is Komaeda.

 

The disbelief of success and having Komaeda speaking again is slowly fading from Hinata’s mind. He’s cataloguing every minute detail, every microexpression that flits across his pale face. Finally Hinata hears himself say, “Do you understand now?”

 

Komaeda wrinkles his forehead in deep thought. “Yes, and no. I understand what’s been done to me; I understand that everyone who died in the game is still alive—I saw that for myself—but what I don’t understand is how your eyes have changed.”

 

Hinata’s blood goes cold, his muscles locking as he stares at Komaeda, who has spoken as if reading off a grocery list. He is looking at Hinata casually and curiously, in that suddenly-cold way that he knows he’s capable of, most notably during a school trial.

 

“That,” Hinata says shakily, “is a story for another day. Right now, we should head back to your room.”

 

Komaeda looks at him thoughtfully. “Hmm,” he muses softly. “Hmm.”

 

Hinata’s had enough. “Come on,” Hinata rises to his feet and holds out his hand.

 

Komaeda still has that thoughtful expression as he slowly takes Hinata’s extended hand. Hinata is surprised at how cold Komaeda’s hand is, and belatedly realizes that he’s literally wearing one piece of cloth in a fully air-conditioned hospital. He stumbles a little and grabs onto Hinata’s shoulder automatically for support, and Hinata wraps an arm around his back. “Let’s go,” he says quietly, and Komaeda winces again.

 

“Could…couldn’t surgically heal the rest of my body, could they,” Komaeda smiles with difficulty.

 

“No,” Hinata says lightly. “They’re not that advanced yet.”

 

Komaeda laughs at this, but it’s cut off shortly with a cough. Tiredly they trudge on, and Komaeda says very little for the rest of the walk.

 

By the time they make it back to Komaeda’s room, the rest of their friends are already there and standing around anxiously. It’s Owari who spots them first, and she lets out a shout of excitement as she points to Hinata and Komaeda. They rush forward and start talking animatedly all at once, and it exhausts even him. Glancing at Komaeda, he’s shocked at how pale he’s gotten. Clearly the escape and the walk back to his room had taken the last of his strength.

 

“Hold on,” Hinata says to them, and nods to Komaeda. They watch in shocked silence as they hobble towards Komaeda’s bed and Hinata loosens his grip to let him climb onto the bed. Komaeda practically falls against it, and Hinata has to wrestle with the sheets to pull them out from under Komaeda’s motionless body. He’s wheezing and Hinata wonders where the hell hospital staff is.

 

It would have been easier on Hinata if he could say that Komaeda passed out right there and Hinata was able to leave the hospital in peace. But, like most of Hinata’s life, it was not that easy—instead, Komaeda continued breathing with difficulty as several nurses and the attending physician rushed inside the room. Hinata steps away until his back is pressed against the wall, watching as a nurse places a mask over Komaeda’s mouth and nose, letting him breathe easier.

 

No one bothers telling him to leave the room—they’re all still too shocked that Hinata figured out where Komaeda was hiding and how he’d escaped, and that he had brought him back here. He’s compelled to call Togami and tell him that there isn’t nearly enough security in this hospital, especially without any cameras working throughout the building. He’ll have to think about it later (he’s pretty sure Togami and the rest of the Future Foundation knows what’s happened), because the nurses were starting to leave and the attending physician whom Hinata has seen several times before was now approaching him.

 

“This could have ended very differently if you weren’t here,” he says to Hinata gravely.

 

“Is he alright?”

 

“Oh he’s fine, alright. He’ll be extremely tired for the next few weeks, but he’s on his way to recovery. Now,” he lowers his voice, and Hinata’s eyes flicker to the side to see Komaeda staring at the ceiling. “Where did he go?”

 

Hinata watches Komaeda narrow his eyes as a small smile forms on his lips. Hinata turns back to the physician. “In the East Wing hallway. He got lost.”

 

-:-

 

Hinata’s assumption was correct; Togami found out within minutes of Komaeda’s escape. According to Souda (who had watched Sonia phone him), his response had been brief and particularly unpleasant.

 

The doctor was long gone as were the nurses, who left once all the monitors and tubes were reattached to Komaeda. He didn’t say anything as they worked busily on him, watching them very carefully.

 

Sonia, Souda, Owari, and Kuzuryuu are sitting around Komaeda’s bed. They’re looking at him anxiously and unsurely, and Komaeda isn’t really looking at anything at all. Hinata can’t help but notice how silent Komaeda has gotten since they left the archived conference room—at first he assumed it was because he was exhausted beyond belief and in tremendous pain from walking so much, but this was different. It was unlike Komaeda to remain quiet for so long, no matter what the situation. More often than not, he would blurt something blunt yet cheerful by now, but....

 

“How are you feeling?” Sonia breaks the silence, smiling tentatively.

 

Komaeda shrugs. “No different than usual,” he replies mildly.

 

A pause stretches between them.

 

Komaeda makes a noise of discontent. “I think, instead of sitting here pretending you want to talk to me, we should move on to more important discussions.”

 

The group around Komaeda flinches. “We _do_ want to talk to you, Komaeda-san,” Sonia says in distress. She sends a sharp glare at Souda who made the mistake of whistling low.

 

“What did you want to discuss?” Kuzuryuu asks seriously.

 

Komaeda smiles pleasantly, and it’s a sharp contrast to the gaunt circles under his eyes. “Well first, what are your plans now? I was your test subject and by some act of divinity, you succeeded. What will you do by resurrecting the rest of our comrades?”

 

“Do?” Owari repeats. “We’re going to get our friends back. Isn’t that enough for you?”

 

“No,” Komaeda sighs. “It’s a curse of mine, you see, wanting to plan ahead…”

 

“The purpose is to help the world heal,” Hinata says quietly. Komaeda glances at him. “Beyond this island is chaos and destruction. We’re going to help fix what Junko has done to this world, to make a difference, no matter how small.”

 

“After what you’ve done? After what _we’ve_ done? Do you think anyone would believe the people responsible for that destruction?” Komaeda challenges, his tone soft but unwavering. “I would’ve preferred the alternative.”

 

“Where we all _died?_ ” Owari growls, tightening a fist.

 

Komaeda stares at her mutinously.

 

The hostility in the air spiked tremendously. Hinata glances between his friends and Komaeda, who looks determined to make everybody in his room hate him just as they did before. Reluctantly, Hinata stands up and mutters, “It’s time we got some rest. It’s been a long day.”

 

Kuzuryuu and Owari are the first to leave, and Sonia looks unsurely at Komaeda one last time before following them out, with Souda trailing behind.

 

Hinata waits a beat before rounding on Komaeda. “What was that?”

 

“Hm? What was what, Hinata?”

 

Hinata suppresses a growl of frustration. “Do you really think I bought that? You said all that on purpose to piss them off.”

 

Komaeda looks like he’s half a mind to deny it, but he closes his mouth and looks so happy that Hinata has to take a step away from him in caution.

 

“I did,” he admits without an ounce of shame, his eyes twinkling. “Did you see how they reacted? It was just like in the game…just like before!”

 

When the levity of Komaeda’s words dawn on Hinata, it’s as if the wind is knocked out of him. Komaeda looks so pleased with himself as he sits on the bed, reclining contentedly against the pillows.

 

“You…were testing them?” Hinata asks slowly. Komaeda nods and shrugs happily. “Why the hell would you do that?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Komaeda looks at Hinata as if it were a very simple matter. And when Hinata figures it out, with Komaeda gazing at him encouragingly, he realizes it truly was a simple matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmed by the support I've received for this fic. It means...a lot. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can't stress how much your kind words and questions are appreciated. 
> 
> This chapter was especially fun to write for obvious reasons. :) Please let me know what you think of it!


	5. Memory

**Chapter 5: Memory**

**-:-**

 

 

The room is tense. Not the uncomfortable, tie-tugging, morose kind of intensity; it’s the half-hopeful, half-frustrated kind that’s leaving everyone in the room on edge. Either way, Hinata wishes he didn’t have to be stuck in this again. The constant devil’s advocate, the constant bickering—all of it was giving him a migraine.

 

“There has to be a logical way to do this,” Hinata says again tiredly. “We picked Komaeda last time because he was the most difficult to fix. We can still do that now.”

 

“The rest of these scans are equal in severity,” the attending physician reminds him.

 

“I say we do order of death,” Souda crosses his arms over his chest. “That seems pretty damn logical to me.”

 

“No,” Owari says immediately. The seriousness in her voice makes the rest of them pause. “Do not do them the dishonor of actually respecting those damn deaths. That was all Monobear— _Junko_ —and doing it that way makes it like—like she’s still winning. And I won’t stand for that!”

 

“She’s right,” Sonia nods, her eyes wide. “I don’t want it in the order of those deaths. It would be…disrespectful.”

 

“Then what?” Souda snaps exasperatedly. He immediately recoils when Sonia narrows her eyes at him dangerously.

 

“I have an idea,” Kuzuryuu finally speaks. He’s been sitting silently for the majority of this impromptu meeting, carefully inspecting his nails and listening with a surprising amount of patience. “Why not just pick a name at random?”

 

At the stunned expressions, Kuzuryuu shakes his head and adds, “Idiots.”

 

After a small uproar and a shuffling of paper, every single name is written carefully on stripped pieces of paper, folded, and dropped into an empty jar. Souda is still grumbling under his breath for not thinking of such a simple solution himself when Owari asks, “So who wants to do this?”

 

“I’ll do it,” Sonia says firmly. “As a diplomatic leader, it is my duty to be the mediator of any council and uphold its duties.”

 

After a murmur of agreement, Sonia nods sharply and reaches inside the jar. Her fingers shuffle the paper before retrieving a folded piece from the top. Hinata holds his breath as Sonia slowly unfolds it.

 

Her eyes briefly rove over the paper before looking up.

 

She smiles. “Mioda Ibuki.”

 

 

**-:-**

 

Hinata stares down at his feet, feeling betrayed and hopeful and that strange, off-putting sensation in his stomach that reminds him how confused he still was.

 

Somehow it encourages him, and he knocks twice on the door before him. He waits, his ears listening intently on any movement from inside. Hinata’s anxious expression twists into one of confusion and knocks again loudly.

 

He wretches open the door and finds Komaeda’s room empty. The bed is neatly made, a half-empty glass of water on the bedside table sparkling against the sunlight that spills into the room. He hears sea gulls screeching merrily outside, somewhat more loudly than he’s accustomed to hearing, and he walks towards the window. Eyes widening, he quickly leaves the room.

 

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore grows louder and louder as Hinata walks, spindly shadows of the seagulls flying above him passing over the sand and loop around a figure near the ocean. Komaeda is sitting calmly, white tufts of hair fluttering in the sharp breeze. There’s an overturned bowl in his lap and several seagulls hopping around him hopefully. Sensing Hinata’s approach, the birds fly away immediately, causing Komaeda to turn around.

 

Hinata still doesn’t know how to interpret the fluttery feeling in his stomach when Komaeda smiles up at him, and decides to ignore it. Without invitation Hinata sits down beside him, watching the water ebb and flow just beyond their reach.

 

“Is Ibuki awake yet?” is the first thing Komaeda asks.

 

“No,” Hinata answers. “They’re saying she’ll probably wake up tomorrow, though.” Komaeda nods quietly. Hinata’s eyes slide towards him, careful to make it so it isn’t terribly obvious, but sensing that Komaeda knows he’s staring anyway. If he does, Komaeda doesn’t bother mentioning it. Hinata squashes down the dangerous idea that perhaps Komaeda liked being gazed at by Hinata.

 

“Why aren’t you in your room?”

 

Komaeda looks at him. “I wanted to be here instead.”

 

“You shouldn’t be moving around too much right now. You’re still not fully healed.” Hinata internally cringes at the way the words come out, almost scolding to hear.

 

Komaeda’s lips twitch. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Hinata’s eyes narrow. “Are you alright?”

 

“I just said I am…?”

 

“No,” Hinata shakes his head. “You…” he grapples for the right words. He knows he might be going too far, but he had to at least say it. “You’re not yourself.”

 

Komaeda stares at him blankly.

 

“You’re too—you—you’re…this isn’t you. Subdued. It’s not you.”

 

Komaeda’s eyes press into Hinata briefly, until they crinkle and laughter rings loudly through the air, like a tinkering melody melting with the sound of the waves crashing against the sand.

 

Hinata frowns, confused. Komaeda is gazing out the sea, still chuckling, his eyes moist with mirth, and he idly wipes them. Finally Hinata grows frustrated and blurts, “What’s so funny?”

 

Komaeda smiles—no, _grins_ —and shakes his head at Hinata. “You,” he says breathlessly, softly, “you—you actually—you actually think you know me!”

 

The words hit him like a cement block, leaving him momentarily winded. His eyes flare into wide, shocked circles as Komaeda starts chuckling again, though this time it does not reach his eyes. His mouth gapes, pausing as he tries to find the right words.

 

“I—I _do_ know you,” he says, almost defiantly. The humor fades in Komaeda’s eyes, but the smile lingers on his lips. His eyelids are hooded as something dark and sharp reflects in his gaze.

 

“You don’t,” Komaeda says flatly.

 

“I do,” Hinata says angrily.

 

“You barely know yourself,” Komaeda deflects Hinata’s anger, looking at him bluntly. Hinata can’t help the sharp thread of hurt that strikes his chest. He’s unused to Komaeda’s harsh words, though this could hardly be considered harsh. It’s—Hinata grits his teeth, not liking how quickly he’s getting annoyed—it’s as if Komaeda—as if Hinata was like anybody else, treating him like everybody else, and Hinata finds this grating.

 

_Why?_ A small voice murmurs amusedly in his head. _Did you get used to the special treatment he gives you?_

 

The thoughts disturb him even further, and Hinata quickly shoves them back.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he says through his teeth.

 

Komaeda raises his eyebrow and starts to properly look at him, as if he hadn’t noticed Hinata was really there before. He takes in Hinata’s clenched fists and taut muscles and understanding dawns on him.

 

“I’ve made you angry,” he notes, inclining his head imperceptibly. “A shame…but it doesn’t change what I said.”

 

“I’m not angry,” Hinata tries not to grimace as he says this. “And you’re deflecting.”

 

“Deflecting implies there is something I don’t want you to know, and there’s nothing left in me to hide,” Komaeda says thoughtfully. “I’m only telling you what’s true.”

 

“But it’s not!” Hinata replies impatiently. Frustration bubbles inside him and he stares off at the shore of foaming water, picking at the sand irritatedly.

 

“You know what I am.” Komaeda says quietly. His eyes are lowered when Hinata glances up at him. “You know what I can do. But you don’t know anything about me.”

 

The words strike Hinata as Komaeda’s bright eyes pierce through his. They’re heavy, and Komaeda’s gaze is even heavier, unreadable. Hinata feels weighted with the reality of their past; the chaotic destruction that lay beyond the confines of island as he stares at Komaeda. But just as quickly, defiance bubbles up inside Hinata, and he squares his jaw.

 

“I know _you_ ,” Hinata says forcefully, his voice no louder than a murmur but Komaeda hears it clearly, even as the waves slap down deafeningly along the shore. “I know you best out of everyone here, I made sure of that.” He lowers his voice even further, “You already _know_ this.”

 

“Are you talking about the game?” Komaeda laughs incredulously. “You think, knowing me for a few weeks in a simulation, let you know who I was?” Hinata flinches, stung. “You never saw who I really was. You don’t even remember who I was before that.”

 

“What does it matter if I remember that?” Hinata demands, his stomach churning unhappily at Komaeda’s remark about the game. “None of us remember that, not even you. But we all know what our past was—what our past did to everybody else. I know what you’ve done, and—and I’m still here.”

 

Komaeda is looking at him curiously, and it makes Hinata pause. He wants to continue, the words itching to leave his throat. There’s something dangerous about what the both of them were insinuating, something new about the way Komaeda is starting to avoid his gaze. There are dangerous words he wants to say, to _finally_ say out loud…

 

But he can’t bring himself to do it…not yet. Komaeda looks at him again, his eyes no longer unreadable, but rimmed with fatigue and acceptance.

 

“I’m finding it hard to live,” Komaeda says softly.

 

Hinata looks at Komaeda in shock. “W-what?” he say weakly.

 

Komaeda doesn’t reply immediately, nor does he look away. Hinata starts feeling uncomfortable, tempted to slide his eyes away from Komaeda’s depthless ones, but can’t find it in himself to break contact. Hinata doesn’t really want to. Questions are burning to be asked, but never come. Hinata knows it is Komaeda who must speak now; he’d spent ten minutes distracting Hinata with nonsense trying to find the right time to reveal this to him. A microscopic part of him swells with emotion, knowing he is the only one whom Komaeda revealed this bit of information to. The larger, dominant part of him is recoiling in confusion.

 

“Once, I was nobody with a purpose,” Komaeda says so quietly that Hinata has to lean in closer to hear him. “Now…now? Now, now I am somebody. I am somebody?” Komaeda asks, his eyes half-crazed, and Hinata nods slowly, unsurely.

 

“Yes…?” Hinata answers uncertainly. It was the wrong thing to say, for Komaeda immediately buries his hands in his hair and hunches over. Hinata’s hand twitches in an instinctive gesture to reach out to him and comfort him. He hesitates, and buries his hand in the sand again.

 

“Hajime Hinata,” Komaeda murmurs, raising his head to pierce him with a brief stare that was both wistful and content, “you don’t know me at all.”

 

He almost protests, but looking at Komaeda he decides against it. Hinata watches Komaeda stare off into the distance again, fiddling with the bowl that presumably had food in it. An unhappy sigh swelling inside him, Hinata stares up at the crystal blue skies.

 

 

**-:-**

 

The first thing that came from Ibuki’s mouth was a very loud scream.

 

“My hair!” she wails, feebly clutching long, dark locks with trembling, unused hands. “Ibuki’s beautiful colors! They’re _gone_ ~!” her last word pitches up in a brief melody, before collapsing against the pillows in exhaustion.

 

The surgeons regard the outburst with concern, but it is Souda who snorts and says, “Yeah, she’s fine alright.”

 

When she awakes again, everyone is gathered around her bed. Komaeda is sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse steering him so he could be near the foot of the bed. Hinata tries not to look at him as Ibuki’s rambunctious voice rings through the air.

 

“How can I recover when I have to look at this lifeless—” she gestures to the jet black hair pooled around her, visibly distressed.

 

“The color faded a long time ago,” Sonia says patiently, sitting immediately beside her and taking her hand. She had just finished regaling most of the reason why Ibuki was alive and the events prior and during the game. Ibuki had taken it with an equal mixture of abject horror and determination. Hinata is impressed with her liveliness and enthusiasm, which didn’t seem to disappear despite the history lesson.

 

“We can get you some box dyes I’m sure,” Souda suggests encouragingly, and shrinks when Sonia glares daggers at him.

 

“That is sooo reassuring!” Ibuki beams up at him, and Souda laughs nervously. Sonia’s glare fades into confusion.

 

“Would you like to see what you look like now?” Komaeda asks softly, the first thing he’s spoken since he came into her room. “It’ll be much different from what you remember.”

 

“Ah right, because Ibuki is much older now,” Ibuki reasons, glancing around the room looking for a mirror.

 

Hinata frowns. “She doesn’t have to right this second,” he says, looking at Komaeda oddly. Komaeda smiles thinly.

 

“It’s okay! Ibuki is curious how she has blossomed since her school days,” Ibuki eagerly takes the mirror a nurse hands to her, and smiles widely once seeing her reflection.

 

“Anything especially different?” Komaeda prompts quietly. Hinata looks at Komaeda suspiciously.

 

“Everything! Longer face, paler skin, and no piercings! Where are my piercings?”

 

“Your jewelry is safely put away until you want to wear them again,” a doctor replies swiftly, and Ibuki looks even happier.

 

When Ibuki yawns the fourth time, they are all ushered out of the room so she could get her rest. Ibuki is already snoring by the time Hinata leaves the room. His eyes follow Komaeda as the nurse wheels him away, and vaguely registers that Souda is now talking to him.

 

“—could get the dye, though? Don’t think stick-up-his-ass would get it for us, maybe there’s something in the supply store?”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Hinata mutters distractedly. “Later.”

 

Slowly he stalks towards Komaeda’s room, glancing around to make sure he’s not being followed. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this—he doesn’t know why he _cares_ so much. What’s it to him if Komaeda had been acting strange in Ibuki’s room? He’d hardly said a word, but when he did…

 

Komaeda is utterly unsurprised when Hinata knocks on the door and enters the room. He’s staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully, and lowers his eyes slowly until they’re fixed on Hinata. Hinata hesitates, the strange, weightless feeling creeping up inside him again, and Hinata grits his teeth. _Not now!_

 

Hinata opens his mouth, but realizes launching into baseless accusations was…not good. His mouths snaps shut, and Hinata looks away briefly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

 

“Hi,” he says finally.

 

“Hello,” Komaeda smiles. Hinata stares at it. He almost hates it, that smile. It appears for all intents and purposes genuine, but Hinata can never find it in himself to believe it.

 

Eventually Hinata sits in the chair on Komaeda’s beside. “So,” he begins awkwardly. “Ibuki.”

 

Komaeda is cheerful. “She seems well.”

 

“She does. You asked some interesting questions.”

 

“Really? I don’t think they were very interesting. I don’t think I asked her more than two.”

 

“They were very specific,” Hinata replies warily.

 

“Oh yes, they were. I had to know if something in her genetics changed,” Komaeda shrugged. Hinata is taken aback.

 

“ _What_? Why?”

 

“To confirm my hypothesis about what happened to your eyes,” Komaeda says casually, as if commenting on something as mundane as the weather. Hinata’s heart stutters a beat, panic creeping up inside him.

 

_No…not yet, please…_

 

Hinata stares at him, wide-eyed, as Komaeda continues, “I examined everybody else’s appearance, rummaged through their medical files, and confirmed no discernible change in them besides aging. You, however,” Komaeda inspects Hinata calculatingly, “look completely different.”

 

“Yeah?” Hinata says hoarsely. “What did my medical file tell you?”

 

Komaeda stares at him silently. Finally, he answers, “Your file wasn’t there.”

 

Something like relief floods through him. “Oh?”

 

“Hm.” Komaeda agrees, sighing quietly. “And since you won’t say anything about it, I can only assume it’s something that brings you deepest shame.”

 

Anger flares up inside him, and Hinata narrows his eyes. “You’re wrong.” _He’s right, he’s right, he’s right—_

 

Komaeda laughs. “I’m not, though! Not even your friends will say anything about it. Not the doctors. Not the nurses. Togami is tight-lipped. You can’t even look me in the eye right now; you make it too easy.”

 

“ _You—_!” Hinata’s hands are balled into fists, his body shaking. “Psychoanalyzing me doesn’t mean you’re right. Why are you so bent on this?”

 

“You’d know, wouldn’t you? You _know me,_ remember?” says Komaeda mockingly.

 

“You’re an asshole,” says Hinata heatedly. “Pissing me off won’t push me away. It didn’t work in the game, and it won’t work here, so just leave it.”

 

“The _game_ ,” Komaeda sighs almost dramatically, and resumes staring up at the ceiling with interest. “The game, the game, your precious game, you know so much from it, and yet so little. How is that? Are all of you like that? Shouldn’t you have recovered by now?”

 

“What are you _talking_ about?” Hinata snaps irritably, not at all following where Komaeda was going anymore.

 

“You don’t know! None of you do! It’s a shame, but a relief, because you don’t want to remember what I do…is that it? Did you all choose not to remember?”

 

_He can feel the glares boring into his back and the whispers surrounding him and he wants to disappear—_

Hinata shakes his head sharply, pushing away the images that flashed through his mind. “Wait,” he says suddenly, looking at Komaeda in shock. “Did you say you remember? What do you remember?”

 

Komaeda grows ominously silent.

 

“Oh, now you won’t talk,” Hinata scowls. “Should’ve known, you’re always like that, especially when I really needed help in the—” he cuts off, remembering how Komaeda was starting to get whenever the game was mentioned. He inhales deeply, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. “You’re right. I don’t know you. I know parts of you, whatever it was you let us see. But I wanted to understand you then, and I still do now. But that can only happen if you start explaining yourself, Komaeda.”

 

Hinata knows he’s laying it on pretty thick, but he could tell he was very close to Komaeda revealing something, and he was desperate—but Komaeda was still staring up mutinously at the ceiling, not saying a word.

 

Hinata bites his lip and looks down at his hands. They’re dry and worn. His eyes drift over to Komaeda’s hands, and his eyes widen.

 

“Your bandage,” Hinata stammers. “You’re—the hand—?”

 

Komaeda—finally—looks at Hinata serenely. “They removed it yesterday night. It was a fairly quick procedure. Hurt much less than when it was put on.”

 

Hinata stares at him, realizing, and beyond his own volition Hinata is moving, walking, taking in Komaeda’s surprised look as Hinata settles down on the bed by Komaeda’s hip. Eyes leveled with Komaeda’s, he reaches forward and his hand hovers over Komaeda’s arm. Komaeda swallows but says nothing, does nothing, as Hinata inches slowly forward and grasps his forearm.

 

The first touch is neither electric nor life-altering. It is warm, however, and soft under Hinata’s calloused fingers. He lifts it gently and sees the new bandage around his wrist, this time free of a mottled, decaying hand.

 

“How much can you remember now?” Hinata asks quietly.

 

Komaeda doesn’t look at Hinata at first, and the reality of his silence nearly breaks Hinata.

 

Komaeda eyes flicker up to his, gazing at the deep red irises with curiosity, and breathes, “Almost everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! 
> 
> It's been TOO long since my last update, and I'm very sorry...not only am I a slow updater, but I also get wrapped up in college stuff, but I'm hoping this summer I finally finish this fic? 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's sent me such positive feedback; the overwhelming response to this story brings me so much joy and happiness! You're all wonderful and thank you for giving this fic a chance.
> 
> Also my friend hinatas linked me to a gorgeous artwork that checaria on tumblr made for this fic for New Year's! You can see it [here](http://checaria.tumblr.com/post/106755101049/happy-new-year-and-happy-birthday-hinata-i)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! xx


	6. Vibrance

**Chapter 6: Vibrance**

Something was…wrong.

 

Perhaps not. Perhaps this is the way it is. No dead have ever come back to recount the journey into death; it was conjecture, fantasy, romanticized. He can see now that he was guilty of it too. How could anybody know?

 

He expected cold. Some parts were. He expected _relief_. Some moments were. He did not expect vibrance, or the faded sounds of voices too far away to understand, or the feel of cloth on his skin, or so much pain where his thoughts were gathering that he struggled not to let out a cry. It was sharp, dilute, murky, and his vision…waning.

 

But as quickly as his dismay came, it left—for this is what death was, was it not? He reveled in it, delighted in it! He should enjoy this, and wait for the rest to return, and so he did.

 

Somehow he opens his eyes and his vision is filled with white, until…yes, he blinks, and the white is a dull throb, and he can see grey. A ceiling of grey. His head hurts and images flicker over his eyes like photographs, moments frozen in his mind that he is struggling to understand.

 

He speaks, not realizing that he does, when a honeyed voice replies. His heart leaps when he recognizes it and he turns his head, eyes wide with disbelief, as a familiar face hovers near him with worry.

 

“K-Komaeda?” the boy says hoarsely.

 

Images flit through him and slowly he’s putting things together.

 

 _Hinata_.

 

Perhaps death was not so bad after all.

 

“So it worked.”

 

**-:-**

 

Ringing. There’s far too much ringing in Hinata’s ears, as if he’s been submerged underwater and everything has become warped and distant and indistinguishable. His blood is pounding hard, he can feel it in his chest, feel it in the way his body throbs and sways him slightly where he stands.

 

Hinata swallows hard. They’re staring at each other. Komaeda is deathly still, watching Hinata expectantly. “Everything?” Hinata says hoarsely.

 

Komaeda nods. Hinata realizes silence doesn’t suit Komaeda at all. “How long?”

 

Komaeda shrugs vaguely. “Days. They come when I dream, or sometimes not.” Hinata gazes at him incredulously. “It’s…disrupting. There’s parts missing, of course, but pieces are returning.” He looks at Hinata thoughtfully. “I remember you from school. You were nobody.”

 

Hinata’s eyes narrow, and life starts returning to Hinata. His mouth sets into a frown. “And this is exactly the problem, Komaeda. For someone so clever, you hardly understand anything.”

 

“Understand? What’s there to understand? These are facts, not lessons. Your insignificance was the only thing I can remember of you from school,” Komaeda folds his arms across his chest almost challengingly, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “I couldn’t even remember you from the game, that’s how insignificant you were. It took neurosurgery to recall even a shred of your existence.”

 

Hinata scowls, all of the warm things he’d been feeling the past few days evaporating. He retorts heatedly, “Yeah? I don’t remember you either, and not because you were insignificant with your talent. I just didn’t care.”

 

Komaeda laughs. “Of course not! As talent goes, that—” he stops. “You. Don’t remember me either.”

 

“No,” Hinata says irritatedly. Coming here was a shit idea, he realizes it now, and is getting increasingly annoyed with Komaeda staring at him like he’s seen a dragon.

 

“You don’t remember me either,” Komaeda repeats. “Either. You remember other things, then.”

 

Hinata stills. _Shit_. “I…” He closes his eyes tightly, grimacing. Why did he say that? “Sort of. I don’t know, okay? Things pop up in my head and I don’t know what they are.”

 

“They’re memories,” Komaeda says decisively, as if it weren’t even a question. “So…so it’s not just me? You can remember things to? Of course it’s silly to expect you to remember things faster than me, but the others, what about the others? Are they remembering? They—they won’t tell me anything, but you? You know?”

 

“I don’t know if they remember, and I don’t remember much of anything,” Hinata says firmly, desperately trying to veer the conversation away from this.

 

Komaeda stares at him. “Does it frighten you?”

 

“What?”

 

“That I know.”

 

Hinata stares at him blankly. “No…why would it?”

 

Komaeda bares his teeth in a wide smile.

 

Hinata regards him uneasily. “Don’t say it, Komaeda.”

 

“I remember it,” Komaeda breathes.

 

“Stop—”

 

“Soon you will too—”

 

“I said _stop!_ ”

 

“Why are you lying to yourself?” Komaeda asks him, not rising to Hinata’s anger. “I think you remember more than you’re letting on. The others, they can’t remember, I don’t think they understand, but _you—_ I think you’re as close to me. _Me…_ I remember them like photographs, the horrible things these hands have done…” he lifts them to his eyes, gazing with wonder and trepidation. “I think I enjoyed it.”

 

Instinctively, Hinata grabs his hands and shoves them down. Breathing hard, his voice no more than a whisper, he says, “ _Stop_.”

 

Komaeda stares at their hands, their skin warming together. His eyes slowly travel up to Hinata’s. “Why do you keep lying to yourself?” He says it so softly that it barely carries in the air. It is almost as if he’s speaking directly to Hinata’s altered eyes. “Why are you denying it?”

 

Hinata’s grip on Komaeda’s hands loosen, holding them gently. “I’m not denying, Komaeda. I’m overcoming. You only just woke up, so I get it…I get that it’s hard to look past it all. Things will change.” He closes his eyes, steadying himself, before opening them again and gazing at Komaeda directly. “And I will be there to help.”

 

Komaeda looks stunned, _properly_ stunned, and it’s such an odd expression for him that Hinata has to will himself not to crack a smile.

 

“Of all the terrible things I say, of all the things I’ve done…you would still help me?”

 

Hinata furrows his brow. “Of course I would. We’re friends.”

 

Komaeda stares at their hands again, his eyes unreadable.

 

“Friends.”

 

**-:-**

 

 

The spirit of the island began to change since Ibuki’s awakening. It was impossible not to banter in her presence, though very little seemed to actually be directed at her. Hinata watches in amusement as Owari and Souda glower at each other.

 

“That’s it, right now! An arm wrestle to the death!”

 

“What the fuck! You can’t die from that!”

 

“Then I shall be the first to make it possible!” Owari bellows, already rolling up her sleeve and pumping her bicep.

 

“Guys, please…let’s not be too hasty,” Sonia tries to intervene, a worried smile on her lips, “I’m sure Souda didn’t mean to make you drop the bag…”

 

“He damn right did! Look at him smirk!”

 

“I’m not _smirking_ you cow _—!”_

 

Ibuki laughs, and heartily at that, drawing the wheelchair closer to the quarreling pair. “I would be much happier with my earrings than a duel, honestly!”

 

They pause, and Owari drops the clear bag with earrings into Ibuki’s lap, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “That’s all of it. I washed it and everything, since before it was…yeah, it was gross. But it’s clean now, so you can put ‘em in whenever you want.”

 

Kuzuryuu gruffly holds up a mirror for Ibuki to look into as she fits the earrings into her ear. Hinata never realized just how many there were, and feels a sudden surge of respect for her to have been this dedicated. They are placed strategically, each earring complementing the others.

 

Komaeda is sitting next to him, though at a friendly distance. They are in the cafeteria and once the food had been cleared, they had all taken it upon themselves to reintroduce Ibuki to herself.

 

As each piercing goes in Ibuki’s smile grows wider, until she is grinning with delight. “Thank you sooooo much! Ibuki feel like herself again!”

 

“That’s not all,” Kuzuryuu smirks, lowering the mirror. “Loverboy has something else for you.”

 

Souda goes bright pink, his cheeks matching his hair as he splutters, “Oh fuck off, man!” Hinata sees his fingers twitch, and knows if Souda wasn’t already so embarrassed, he would have shoved his hat down his eyes.

 

Ibuki, unfazed, stares up at Souda. He clears his throat. “It’s, uh, the colors you had before. We thought we’d help you dye your hair again.” He holds up his hand, which carries a plastic bag that came from the supply store. Ibuki stares disbelievingly at him, then to the rest of her them.

 

“My friends…”

 

Ibuki speechlessly watches Souda take out each box of dye until they’re all spread before her. She smiles wordlessly as she points to the ones she wants, and Souda, Owari, and Sonia begin the task of coloring her hair. It takes a little more than an hour to get her hair sectioned off and the dye to go in, until finally they step away and allow the hair to rest. It is strange to Hinata how something so simple could make one person so happy—Ibuki has a perpetual look of wanting to burst into tears, but instead she declares a promise to write a song for each and every one of them.

 

Hinata grins, and looks over to Komaeda. He is staring out the double doors, a frown etched on his lips. Hinata follows his gaze and catches figures approaching the cafeteria.

 

The attending physician is flanked by two nurses, both with items in their hands. One looks at Ibuki’s hair and gapes.

 

“What have you done?” she exclaims.

 

“We’re dyeing it back to the original,” Souda says with a shrug, gripping Ibuki’s wheelchair handle tightly. “It won’t hurt her. I checked.”

 

The doctor looks at Ibuki boredly before turning to the rest of them. “It is time for the next set. Please choose two names.”

 

The other nurse comes forward and places a jar on the table, the same one they had used to draw out Ibuki’s name.

 

 _Set?_ Hinata’s eyes widen. “ _Two?”_

“Two,” the doctor nods curtly. “Komaeda-san and Ibuki-san were successful with their treatment. We see no reason to delay any further. Togami-san has advised for accelerated surgical procedures.”

 

They look at one another dubiously.

 

“Won’t you be short-staffed?” Kuzuryuu asks suspiciously.

 

“We are a full-staffed hospital, and there is more than one surgeon on this island,” the doctor retorts. “There is no logical reason to proceed without multiple treatments.”

 

Owari is the first to shrug. “So long as we get our friends back, I couldn’t care less.”

 

“Ah, but that is a little brazen, don’t you think?” Komaeda says brightly. “You may get your friends back, but one fell slip in the surgery and they may never recognize you.”

 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, tiredly rubbing his temples.

 

“Let’s just pick the names,” says Sonia, and walks over to the jar and hesitantly withdraws to slips of paper.

 

Unfolding them neatly, Sonia says quietly, “Nekomaru Nidai…Hiyoko Saionji.”

When the nurses and the doctor leave, it is as if a blanket of heaviness hovers in the air. Hinata can feel the tension in his friends, and feels it building inside himself—no matter how much joy there was, there would always be something without fail to draw him back.

 

“This is good, right?” Ibuki asks, looking between her friends in confusion. “Two more of our friends are returning to us. This is _good_.” He could hear the unspoken question in the air: _if this is good news, why are you all so sad?_

 

“Yes,” Owari says slowly, turning her gaze to the sitting Ibuki. “Yes this is—this is great. Nidai is coming back. Nidai!” With every word Owari is refueling, rejuvenated, until she is grinning broadly. She punches the air in triumph, growling, “I can’t wait to see the old man again. I have a list of challenges prepared already for a swift recovery.”

 

“Saionji may be difficult,” Kuzuryuu notes. “She is still very young despite the lapse in time.”

 

“We’re all very young, Kuzuryuu, and you’re underestimating her,” Sonia replies softly. “You forget how strong she was. She will be alright…so long as we’re with her, she will be alright.”

 

Souda sighs. “Yeah…it still woulda been easier if Koizumi woke up with her though.”

 

**-:-**

Hinata watches wordlessly for a minute, before finally intervening. “Are you ready?” he repeats.

 

Komaeda blinks, as if forgetting Hinata was standing beside him. Somehow it does not inspire much confidence in Hinata.

 

Komaeda laughs lightly. “I’ve never seen you this worried, Hinata. Is there something in there you don’t want me to see?”

 

Hinata snorts. “I doubt it.”

 

Komaeda gives a small smile, a glint in his eye. “Perhaps there’s something in there I don’t want _you_ to see.”

 

Hinata’s breath catches short, but he exhales with a laugh. “You _do_ know you didn’t actually live in your room, right? That was all the g—”

 

“Game, yes, you’re fond of reminding me,” Komaeda answers shortly. Using a crutch to support himself, he reaches over and turns the doorknob. It swings open and a tidy room comes into view, the sound of sea gulls filling the room and golden sunshine pouring through the gaping windows.

 

Komaeda limps inside, still somewhat unsteady, and stands there for a long time. Hinata sneaks a glance and sees a serene expression on his face.

 

“My room’s where it used to be, so if you need anything, just…knock, I guess.”

 

Komaeda looks at him suddenly. “Are you leaving already?”

 

“I—” Hinata pauses, “Er, no. I could stay a bit.” Under his breath, he mutters, “Not like I have anything else to do, honestly...”

 

Using the crutch for support, Komaeda hobbles towards the bathroom. Hinata glances around a bit and decides to sit on Komaeda’s bed. The last time he’d been here…the last time…Hinata closes his eyes.

 

“Is this room so depressing?”

 

Hinata looks up. Komaeda’s head is tilted, smiling at his private joke.

 

“No, it’s just…strange being in here.”

 

“Why?”

 

Hinata shrugs, averting his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Did you come in here after I died?”

 

Hinata looks at Komaeda sharply. Komaeda’s face betrays nothing.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you like it?”

 

“I…guess?”

 

Komaeda stares at him.

 

“At least this room is better than the hospital,” Hinata says with a half-smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “No more nurses walking in.”

 

Komaeda laughs. “I can use the toilet on my own now. It’s why they released me.”

 

Hinata’s eyebrows jump high, disappearing behind his bangs as he laughs in surprise. “Really?”

 

“No,” Komaeda’s smile is infectious, and Hinata’s heart thuds again in that unfamiliar (though not unwelcome) way. “It was more complicated. Questions and tests. They had to analyze me...assess my psyche.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Mm,” Komaeda hums, sitting slowly beside him and resting the crutch against the bed. He leans forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “Mundane things, hardly anything of importance.”

 

“What, like memories and stuff?”

 

“Oh no, no, they did not care much for the content of my memories. They don’t seem to expect me to remember anything—the fools!”

 

“What do they ask you, then?” Hinata asks curiously. Komaeda blinks before turning to him seriously.

 

“All men are animals. Some animals are aggressive. Conclusion: some men are aggressive. True or false?”

 

“Er…”

 

“Clock is ticking…”

 

“I didn’t know there was a time limit!”

 

“There is. One...two…”

 

“Shit, er—true? No—false, false?”

 

The corners of Komaeda’s mouth tug upwards, a secret smile on his lips.

 

Hinata rolls his eyes. A thought occurs to him, and Hinata smirks. At Komaeda’s curious look, Hinata’s smile broadens.

 

“I’m imagining Ibuki taking this test. They must be so upset.”

 

Komaeda throws back his head and laughs, and it makes Hinata feel light.

 

**-:-**

Just like the two times before, the doctors allow them to visit a few hours after the surgery is done. They’re placed in the same room, Nidai on the left and Saionji on the right. One by one they each hover around the beds, staring at the bandages wrapped around their heads, watching in silence. The monitors beep steadily, and Hinata remembers: _still, alive, breathing…_

It was so long ago yet not long at all, waking in his capsule. Everything before that felt like a dream, but that chant—that _prayer_ , felt more real than anything Hinata felt up until that moment. He repeated it over and over when Komaeda had been asleep; Hinata could say it a few more times.

 

Sonia helps Ibuki over to Saionji’s side, then to Nidai’s. Her hair is shocking and bright, four different colors streaking throughout her long tresses that reflect iridescently in the sunlight. Owari seems to be glued to Nidai’s side, watching over him almost protectively. She pesters the nurses monitoring Nidai and Saionji when they’re expected to wake up, what the lines on the screen mean, what vitals were considered normal, all things she knew already but needed reassurance for…Hinata looks away, focusing on his friends. Slowly the rest were walking out of the room, and Hinata began to leave as well. They were better off resting in alone and in peace.

 

Komaeda lingered by their beds. “Komaeda,” Hinata calls, but Komaeda ignores him. He watches in disbelief as Komaeda reaches over and gently presses his finger to Nidai’s eyelid, prying it up slowly.

 

 _What the hell?_ Hinata strides over and jerks Komaeda away, enough that Komaeda is forced to release Nidai’s eyelid.

 

“What are you doing?” Hinata asks harshly. “That could’ve been dangerous!”

 

“Yes, a great danger from a sleeping man…” Komaeda says wryly.

 

“Come on,” Hinata hisses, grabbing onto Komaeda’s wrist and dragging him outside. Hinata doesn’t know why, but he’s furious. It’s irrational—but is it? Is it irrational to feel anger at someone so determined to wring painful memories out from him by force?

 

Once back on the beach Hinata lets go of Komaeda’s wrist and storms along the coast. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he sees Komaeda is far behind, breathing heavily as he tries to keep up with his crutch, the sandy terrain not helping at all. Hinata unwillingly relents and slows down, waiting for Komaeda to catch up to him.

 

They walk in silence until they reach Komaeda’s room, and Hinata opens the door for him wordlessly. Komaeda looks at him oddly before going inside.

 

Closing the door firmly behind him, Hinata wheels around. “You want to explain that?”

 

“That…?”

 

“Cut the bullshit, Komaeda, for once.”

 

“Do you always ask questions you know the answer to already?”

 

“Maybe I hope to hear something different than what I thought it would be.” Hinata presses his fingers against his closed lids, shaking his head. “Forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“This isn’t all I can do,” Komaeda murmurs quietly, halting Hinata in his steps.

 

“What?”

 

Komaeda pretends he didn’t hear. Rolling his eyes, Hinata leaves.

 

**-:-**

His hands are red, and he glances around and sees it running in across the school, down the windows like apocalyptic rain, streaks of it caked into his hair and reflecting his burgundy eyes. Screams fill his ears, some young and not so young, and it sounds….empty.

 

Lazily he wipes his hands on his blazer and walks out of the room, careful to step over the fallen bodies, throwing back a tangle of black hair behind his shoulders. The hair was illogical, they really should have thought twice before implementing it…then again, the accelerated hair growth was an unexpected side effect, not even the doctors could have cared enough to account for it.

 

The hallway is dim, a broken light flickering every few seconds. He walks aimlessly, ignoring the choked sobs and wheezing breath. They all silence eventually.

 

A flash of blonde invades his vision.

 

“Are you enjoying it?”

 

He pauses. Blood red eyes travel slowly from the hallway to the girl at his side.

 

“I am bored.”

 

**-:-**

Hinata awakes in a jolt, his hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. A sting of pain tells him his nails had dug deeply into the skin of his palm, and a fine layer of sweat clings to him uncomfortably. Hinata staggers out of bed and goes to the sink, rinsing his face and drinking several gulps of water.

 

Never had they been this vivid, and never…not ever had he seen—had he been _him_ —

 

Still trembling, Hinata returns to his bed and sits stiffly. So many thoughts are coursing through his mind, so much noise that he wishes he could silence. He gazes out the window, envying the quietude that he could not find for himself.

 

 _His hands…_ Hinata turns them over to stare at them. They were pale and slightly damp. Not a hint of red was on his skin.

 

He slides down the bed and kneels, lifting the mattress slightly and thrusting his hand inside. He feels around briefly before brushing against a file, and grabs hold of it. Leaning back on his heels once he slides the file from under the mattress, Hinata turns it in his hands so he could gaze at it properly in the pale moonlight.

 

Hinata thought he was recovering, thought he was beginning to heal. The words in the file had frightened and sickened him, but he had been sure that he had accepted it all…but to see it, to _live it_ —Hinata wishes the memories never came to him. He knows why they come to him, _him_ especially. He knows the others—except Komaeda—have no chance of ever remembering the full extent of their past.

 

And despite knowing, despite all the _preparing_ and _hope_ and _encouragement,_ the unrelenting truth was that Hinata could not do this. He was remembering and feeling and slowly falling apart, his insides twisting delicately until they were taut enough to snap cleanly in half.

 

And he knew, for certain, he could not do this alone.

 

“Tomorrow,” Hinata breathes, gripping the file tightly. “Komaeda will know tomorrow.”

 

For who is Hinata to preach of hope and strength, to tell Komaeda he was wrong for his misery and desperate clinging to the past, when Hinata has still not recovered from his own?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for the overwhelming kindness and support I've received for this fic! I think a question came up about whether or not this fic will be following DRAE, and the answer is a definite no...it would be too much to alter what I've already planned and written, and it's best to leave things as they are.
> 
> Thank you again and please let me know what you thought! xx


	7. Games

**Chapter 7: Games**

 

Komaeda did not show for breakfast.

 

Hinata doesn’t think much on it at first, too preoccupied with the deplorable emptiness of his stomach and the throbbing pain behind his eyes. He wishes he could sink back into his bed, to close his eyes and to not see visions of red stains and trembling hands. Suppressing a heavy sigh, Hinata glances around the cafeteria.

 

They’re murmuring amongst themselves; Sonia and Kuzuryuu are sitting together and Owari sits across from them beside Ibuki. Souda is slightly away from the group and more closely to Hinata. Hinata finds he does not mind the mechanic’s company at all.

 

His head is still swimming with the clouded half-memories that threaten to breach the surface of his mind; the more he tries to fight it the more frequently they become, and Hinata is exhausted. After the nightmare last night, Hinata struggled falling back to sleep--for every time he closed his eyes and started to nod off, he could hear echoed weeping and the sound of blood spattering like rain onto a floor. It makes him want to rip his hair.

 

“You look like shit,” Souda comments as he tucks in, a piece of bacon hanging from the corner of his mouth.

 

Hinata glances at him. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem. You think Nidai and Saionji will wake up today?”

 

“It’s only been a day, Souda. I don’t they’ll wake up for at least another week.”

 

“Yeah…but Ibuki woke up earlier than Komaeda did. You never know.”

 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Hinata shrugs. He bites his lip, staring at his plate for a moment, before turning back to Souda.

 

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Do you…have you been…remembering? Anything?”

 

Souda’s chewing pauses, and he gives Hinata a puzzled look.

 

“Remembering?”

 

“Yeah, like—you know, stuff from before.”

 

“Mmph. No, not really.” Souda swallows thickly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Have you?”

 

Hinata says quickly, “No. I was just wondering.”

 

Souda shrugs. “I don’t think we’re gonna recover those memories any time soon, man. Even though it was just a game, we were still physically affected by it. Whatever they did to us before they put us under—it might be permanent.”

 

“And the others, they don’t—you know—remember either, right?” At Souda’s blank stare, Hinata forces a laugh. “Yeah…”

 

The smile fades as Souda’s attention diverts to Sonia and Kuzuryuu, who are in a fierce battle of who would be the first to crack a smile. He shifts excitedly away from Hinata and closer to the other two, joining the bets of who would win. Hinata’s fingers tremble just a little as he lowers his fork.

 

 _Why can I remember, then?_ Hinata asks himself, a hollow feeling in his stomach. _Why am I remembering so much?_

 

_What makes me different?_

 

The grip on his fork tightens. They had all woken in the capsule like he had, went through the same things he had, and yet…

 

Could Souda be lying? Hinata narrows his eyes as he watches the pink-haired boy pump his fist, cheering Sonia on raucously. No, he wouldn’t lie about it, Hinata resolves. After all they had been through, after the tireless research they’d done, Hinata understood his friends well enough to know they were past the point of lying about something as simple as remembering the past.

 

 _So why are_ you _lying?_ a voice asks silkily.

 

Hinata grits his teeth and stabs his fork into his eggs.

 

**-:-**

 

His stomach is fluttering again the way he’s familiarized with; he’s reached the point where it doesn’t bother him, doesn’t bother to think that the cause for it is always the same. His steps have a little jump in them as he walks, and Hinata comes to a stop once he reaches Komaeda’s door. Bracing himself, he knocks twice.

 

When no answer comes, Hinata knocks again. “Komaeda?” he calls. He’s met with silence. Was Komaeda even in his room? Hinata glances around. Strange…and Komaeda had not shown up for breakfast…

 

Images of Komaeda lying prone on his bed, still recovering from his surgery as he struggles to lift himself from the mattress, flit dangerously in his mind. What if the crutch fell away from him and he couldn’t support himself? No, Hinata shakes his head. Komaeda had been perfectly capable of walking—to a certain extent—without the help of a crutch. He would definitely be able to grab it if it fell to the floor…it was undeniable, however, that Komaeda was still recovering. And having dreams of his past memories with increasing clarity, Hinata reminds himself. Perhaps it would be good to check on him.

 

Just as Hinata’s hand brushes the doorknob, he hears Komaeda say, “What are you doing?”

 

Hinata jumps slightly, whirling around to see Komaeda walking towards him. _He wasn’t in his room after all._

 

“I knocked,” said Hinata. “When you didn’t answer, I got worried.”

 

“You were worried?” Komaeda appeared genuinely curious. And a little bit of something else. “That was very silly of you, Hinata.”

 

“Not really,” Hinata’s brows knit together, not at all liking the way Komaeda was smiling at him, as if it were at Hinata’s expense. “Where were you?”

 

“Here and there,” Komaeda replies with a slight shrug, “nothing too dangerous, I promise.”

 

 “But—”

 

“Actually, I had an idea,” Komaeda continues, moving closer to Hinata. “I thought, with so many of us awake, and two more friends on the way, we could all spend some time together today. A bit of a celebration, even.”

 

Hinata blinks. “A celebration of what?”

 

“Everything,” Komaeda says cheerfully. “Life, this island. Our stubborn refusal to adhere to the universe’s attempts to murder us. It could be many things, Hinata, not just one. Don’t we deserve one day to ourselves, _for_ ourselves?”

 

Hinata gazes at Komaeda, trying to find some underlying meaning in his words, hidden perhaps behind his depthless eyes, but found nothing but his own puzzled expression reflected back at him.

 

“Well…yes, that would be nice,” says Hinata hesitantly.

 

“I’m glad you agree!” Komaeda brightens considerably. “I was thinking a little party on the beach. We could go swimming, even; bring out lunch, set up some tables and decorations, I would be more than happy to help.”

 

Hinata’s eyes widen, and he backpedals a bit. “Whoa, hold on. Let’s not jump around here. First we should talk with the rest of the group, then we’ll figure out who does what decorating.”

 

Komaeda’s smile does not fade, nor does the excitement dim in his gaze—but he’s thinking, that much Hinata can sense. And when the fated words finally spill from his lips, it makes Hinata feel like he’s been rooted to the ground, a deer caught in headlights.

 

“If you’re worried I’ll try to kill someone again, I promise I don’t have any intention to.”

 

“N-no, no that’s not…well. Yes, it is.” Hinata looks at Komaeda steadily. There was no point denying it. “No one’s forgotten the game, and this sudden party...it will make people uneasy. Especially after what happened last time with Teruteru.”

 

“Hmm,” Komaeda hums softly. “I can’t blame you for thinking that. I _did_ mean what I said back there, that’s undeniable. If it makes you comfortable, I won’t participate at all! Then there’s no reason anyone would be nervous about me trying to do something, am I right? Hinata?”

 

“Well, yes—”

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

Hinata sighs. “Nothing. This is just sudden, especially from you. But okay, let’s ask everyone if they’re up for it.”

 

“Especially from me? Especially?” Komaeda laughs, the sound like tinkling bells through a gentle breeze, and Hinata’s eyes unintentionally focus on the way Komaeda’s mouth parts in a small, guileless smile. “Sudden is my specialty, _especially_ , Hinata-kun…oh, yes, you should remember _that_ , at the very least…”

 

Hinata’s mind traces back to the things Komaeda had done in the game, the methods he used, though meticulous and fervent, were always executed sporadically. A small flush spreads across his cheeks and gruffly Hinata looks away.

 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just go…”

 

As they walk, under his breath, he hears Komaeda whisper with a soft snort, “ _Especially…_ ”

 

Finding their friends and gathering them in one place was not particularly troublesome, though persuading Komaeda not to introduce themselves with ‘ _Hinata and I are going to a party_ ’ was threatening to give Hinata a particularly nasty migraine.

 

“But that’s a wonderful idea!” Sonia says excitedly, looking at the rest of them with a bright smile. “It’s just what we need, I think! We could all use a day to rest and, and be happy for a little while!”

 

“The weather _is_ perfect,” Kuzuryuu muses, pressing his thumb to his chin.

 

“I could perform for you all!” Ibuki exclaims, “I’ve been writing new songs, just as I promised, for each and every one of you sweet, beautiful soul creatures! I just need a microphone and a guitar and we can paaaaaaaaaaaaaaarty!”

 

“And I can build a stage, if you want,” Souda offers, a toothy grin in place. “There’s plenty of junk on this island for me to whittle something up for ya. There’s some fairy lights in the supply shop, we can drape that along the stage.”

 

“I will knock down some lumber should you need it,” said Owari, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll knock down ten if I need to. Fifteen—twenty—no, thirty—don’t give a shit about my bloody knuckles, I can do it, for my friends—”

 

“Nobody needs to bloody their knuckles,” Hinata interjects, glancing at Owari exasperatedly.

 

“A stage…” Ibuki says breathlessly.

 

“Should we tell the rest of the staff?” Sonia says worriedly. “They _have_ done so much for us already. It would seem discourteous to exclude them.”

 

“This party is for _us_ ,” Komaeda replies firmly. The finality of his tone makes Sonia’s eyes widen in surprise. “At least, for a few hours. We could extend the invitation to them when our party is almost finished, if you wish it.”

 

“Sounds good,” Kuzuryuu agrees swiftly. “I’ve had enough damn time with them breathing down our necks. We need an evening to ourselves.”

 

Hinata observes them silently as they start bouncing ideas, noticing the quietness about some of them, but layered undeniably with brimming excitement. It was palpable in Sonia and Ibuki, even Souda; Kuzuryuu and Owari are smiling to themselves, though Kuzuryuu’s little barely-there smile disappears the moment he realizes Hinata is watching him; Komaeda is not very verbose, but no less happy—he’s laughing with the rest of them, watching them like Hinata is watching Komaeda, and for a fraction of a moment is feels almost—peaceful.

 

Souda announces loudly that he’s accepted the challenge of building a stage, and Owari volunteers to help him gather supplies. Ibuki protests when Kuzuryuu starts wheeling her to her room, proclaiming to be perfectly capable of helping with the party, but after his pointed stare at the wheelchair, Ibuki falls silent.

 

Sonia agrees immediately to set up the decorations and a few chairs for relaxing on the beach, along with a table for food. In the end Komaeda and Hinata glance at each other and realize they would do best with preparing the food and drink.

 

“That went well,” Komaeda notes.

 

“It did,” Hinata agrees. He flashes a smile at Komaeda. “A little too well.”

 

“Are you trying to imply something, Hinata-kun?”

 

“Not implying,” Hinata says off-handedly. “Just a fact. You’re _especially_ good at getting your way.”

 

Komaeda stares at him for a moment, caught off-guard, Hinata is sure, but when the warm smile lights Komaeda’s eyes Hinata can’t help but mirror it exactly.

 

“You’re joking with me,” Komaeda softly murmurs.

 

Hinata looks at Komaeda soberly. “It’s known to happen.”

 

Once they reach the kitchen, they stand at the doorway for a good minute.

 

Hinata turns to Komaeda. “So, does your good luck also cover culinary skills?”

 

**-:-**

“This…is impressive.”

 

Through the corner of his eye, he sees Komaeda nod.

 

“Yes. I hope that answered your question.”

 

“No,” says Hinata dryly, finally turning to look at Komaeda fully. “I think you always knew how to cook.”

 

Through the duration of the last two hours, Komaeda had slowly but impeccably made a few simple but very good meals, perfect for a day on the beach; more than once Hinata had found himself standing still, watching in shock as Komaeda grilled some vegetables and meat with a dexterity that could only come with years of habitual practice. It did not take long for Hinata to become a glorified maid in the kitchen, bringing things to Komaeda as he needed them, cutting open things that Komaeda was still too weak to do by himself. Hinata didn’t mind, though; anything to spare him from the nightmare of making the things Komaeda was.

 

Now, as they stand before the plates stacked with sandwiches and tartes and cold drinks, Hinata can’t help himself.

 

“Komaeda, how long have you cooked for yourself?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I mean, you clearly know what you’re doing,” Hinata states, as if it were obvious. “You must have been doing this for a while.”

 

“Ah,” Komaeda nods. “I thought you’d know? I’ve been on my own for years. I know how to feed myself.”

 

Hinata stills. _Shit…_ “Y-yeah, right. I’m…”

 

“Will you try the custard, Hinata? I hear Novoselic was infamous for their desserts and the last thing I’d want is to offend their princess,” Komaeda holds out a spoon, and Hinata stutters out something before Komaeda shoves it in his hand and stares expectantly until Hinata puts it in his mouth.

 

“Mm,” Hinata nods, licking his lips. “Yeah, it’s actually pretty good.”

 

Komaeda looks pleased. “We should bring this out, then? I wonder how much of the stage has been built…”

 

Hinata doesn’t question the way Komaeda briskly avoids the subject, and Hinata feels somewhat abashed for having brought it up altogether. Why did he? Hinata—he _knows_ Komaeda’s past, he knew it in the game…but in the game Komaeda had been forthcoming with the information, so Hinata didn’t think twice when he asked the question today. What had changed?

 

Hinata watches Komaeda slowly walk with a plate balanced in his hand, and push open the kitchen door with his crutch.

 

 _Everything_ , Hinata thinks. Everything has changed.

 

Sighing, he grabs some plates and marches out of the kitchen and onto the beach. The sound of drills fills the air, along with several loud expletives and a rain of sparks that projectile in Hinata’s direction. He spots Komaeda, standing near Sonia. She’s set up a long table with a white linen sheet atop it, set in place with two large candlesticks that seem to glisten with the sun’s rays and the ocean’s rolling, crashing waves reflecting along it in multicolored patterns. He hears Owari laughing as Souda grabs a fistful of sand and flings it in her direction, a safety mask still covering his face but the telltale trembling of his shoulders show that he is laughing as well.

 

The stage, to Hinata’s surprise, is almost complete. Souda had been considerate to make a ramp instead of a set of stairs for Ibuki’s benefit. She’s beaming as Kuzuryuu guides her across the sand and nudges her onto the plank of smoothened wood. Ibuki grabs onto the wheels and glances at Souda, who nods. With a burst of energy, Ibuki rolls forward and glides easily onto the stage.

 

“Woo!” she cheers. “This is easy as cake, Souda! It will be wonderful!”

 

“Glad you like it,” Souda says proudly, kicking the stage as he appreciates his own handiwork. “All that’s left is wiring the lights and getting a solar-powered charger to hookup the lights to, and then we’ll be done.”

 

“Ibuki brought towels, by the way,” Ibuki informs, looking suddenly very serious. “It won’t be a beach party without swimming.”

 

“You’re going to swim?” Hinata frowns. “Are you sure that’ll be safe?”

  
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ibuki asks, puzzled. “I won’t go very far in, and I can move just fine. And Owari already said she would swim with me and keep me safe.”

 

Hinata is skeptical, and looks to Sonia. “You think it’s safe?”

 

Before Sonia has a chance to answer, Owari cuts in. “Why are you asking her? It’s me you’re questioning here. You think I can’t protect her?”

 

Hinata’s eyes widen. “No, that’s not what I said at all.”

 

“Sure sounds like it,” Owari glares. “Sure sounds like you think I wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. We’ll be holding onto each other the whole time. She needs to move her legs. She needs exercise. That’s what rehabilitation is all about.”

 

“Owari…”

 

“So she’ll be in good hands. I’m as good as a trainer, I’m qualified enough to teach a hundred kids how to keep fit. _I_ might not do it the healthiest way but I damn well know my stuff.”

 

“Owari, I _know_.”

 

“No, you _don’t,_ ” she growls, her fingers tightening into clenched fists, enough for him to see her knuckles turning white. “You don’t.”

 

Her words are met with silence. They all know, then, that this is much more than Ibuki’s safety, that the question had long since evolved into something far darker and deeper, a territory that was mostly untouched for the young athlete before them. Owari is breathing heavily and not meeting anybody’s eyes, and for a second she seems to forget herself. Blinking, Owari takes a step back, then another.

 

“We’ll all swim,” Kuzuryuu says, breaking the silence with his sharp voice. “Like Ibuki said; it’s not a party without swimming right?”

 

They all murmur in agreement, and the tension slowly releases. Souda clears his throat and says something about finding a plier. Slowly they all go back to what they had been doing before, and Hinata exhales slowly. Glancing at Komaeda, he sees him biting his lower lip.

 

Slowly Komaeda walks over by Hinata’s side.

 

“I have a feeling there’ll be plenty more of that tonight,” Komaeda mutters.

 

Hinata breathes in heavily. “Yeah.” He laughs shortly, shaking his head as he glances down at his shoes. “I am such a shit.”

 

Komaeda looks at Hinata sharply. “You’re not.”

 

“I am. I’m a shit. I keep saying the wrong thing today, and…I was just concerned…”

 

“This has nothing to do with you,” Komaeda says flatly. “None of this does. Our problems are not yours to absolve, nor are they yours to predict.”

 

“Yeah? Somehow I can’t help but feel that’s not entirely true,” Hinata says bitterly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Hinata says nothing.

 

“What did you mean by that?” Komaeda asks again.

 

“I mean…I mean…” Hinata closes his eyes briefly, and his breath stops when a flash of red flits across his memory. Quickly he reopens them, choosing instead to look at Komaeda, who continues to watch him with an unreadable expression. “There is a lot that I want to tell you, Komaeda. A lot I want to say.”

 

Komaeda looks at him silently. Hinata watches as he reaches forward, his hand nearing Hinata’s face, and something jumps in Hinata’s chest; his heart thuds against his sternum and his breath quickens when Komaeda’s thumb brushes against the corner of Hinata’s mouth. To his surprise, he sees a fleck of custard on Komaeda’s thumb.

 

Hinata’s jaw nearly drops when Komaeda casually lifts his thumb to his mouth and swipes his tongue along the custard, his eyes narrowing in deep consideration. “Hmm,” Komaeda glances up at Hinata. “It is pretty good after all.”

 

Heat is spreading along Hinata’s body, curling along his spine and tingling his skin and drying his mouth; a current that crackles from his fingertips and leaves him electrified, petrified, rectified. The corner of Komaeda’s mouth curves up, just the barest hint of a smile.

 

“Oh,” Hinata says, and he’s surprised at himself because this was _not_ him, _not_ the time for him to talk and have the last word because if he _talks right now—_ “yes, I expect it had to be _now_.”

 

Komaeda stills, and Hinata doesn’t realize he’s not breathing until his chest starts to tighten, forcing Hinata to take a shallow breath. Something is changing, something is _happening_ , but Hinata doesn’t know what—no, no! He knows, he _goddamn knows_ —

 

“OYE! You two! Help me get this wire up instead of starting a staring contest!” Souda shouts, and the moment is shattered. Hinata turns to see Souda waving for them to come over. “Sir Yakuza here doesn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

 

“Oh fuck off!” Kuzuryuu snaps. “I don’t deal with electric stuff, I’d be no use!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, tell me something I didn’t already know…”

 

Hinata turns back to Komaeda. “I’ll go. You should sit for a bit.”

 

As Souda hands Hinata one end of the strung lights, Hinata can’t stop his hands from shaking.

 

**-:-**

At Ibuki’s request, Souda hooks up an old stereo from the shop to the solar sheet and unfamiliar music floats along the beach. The sun beating down on their bare backs hardly dispels the heightened cheer once the party officially starts, and they find it is _much better_ than the first party they’d had in the game. They all hardly spare an unsavory glance in Komaeda’s direction, let alone a suspicious one; it is simply too bright in that moment, too many smiles and too much good food and too much laughter for anything else to pervade their thoughts.

 

They all changed into theirs swimming trunks, and the girls had fitted themselves in their bathing suits. Hinata is sitting by the table, sipping on a chilled glass of fruit juice as Owari gently guides Ibuki through the water, treading carefully past the shore. Sonia has already done a few laps in the water, and quickly joins Owari and Ibuki.

 

“I’m going in,” Souda says, stripping off his hat and smoothing out his pink hair. “Kuzuryuu, come on.”

 

Kuzuryuu, who is seating several paces away from them all with a pair of sunglasses on his eyes and a book in the other, looks up at the mechanic lazily. “Pass.”

 

Souda glowers. “You fucking baked potato. Get your ass up and join me in the water. You too, Hinata! I’m still holding you on that promise you made!”

 

Hinata looks at Souda incredulously. “That’s long over! I don’t owe you a thing.”

 

Souda throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “What about you, Komaeda? Think you’re ready for a dip?”

 

“I’m a little hungry right now, actually,” Komaeda shrugs.

 

Souda rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then makes a sprint to the ocean. He goes straight for where the girls were gathered, little to Hinata’s surprise.

 

“I wonder when he’ll do something,” Komaeda says beside him.

 

“Do what?” Hinata asks curiously.

 

Komaeda looks at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Hinata frowns and looks back at Souda. He’s grinning, avoiding a shove from Owari, and carefully extracts Ibuki from her grasp. He leads her along the long stretch of the beach, holding her hand so gently that it’s almost as if he were holding glass. Hinata watches Souda lean closer and say something, and Ibuki throws back her head and laughs heartily.

 

“No,” Hinata gasps. Komaeda smiles at him smugly. “ _No._ ”

 

“Yes,” Komaeda corrects.

 

“That’s—” Hinata is speechless. “That’s Ibuki! What—he like _Sonia_ , we all know he likes Sonia.”

 

“He does like Sonia,” Komaeda says simply. “But he enjoys Ibuki Mioda very much.”

 

“No. He’s just being nice,” Hinata shakes his head.

 

Komaeda peers at Hinata inquisitively. “Are you nice, Hinata?”

 

And there it is again.

 

Hinata glances at him. “Of course. I’m nice to everybody.”

 

He guages Komaeda’s reaction, and isn’t disappointed to see a flicker of something across Komaeda’s eyes. It was fleeting, but Hinata was quick to catch it. It was _there_.

 

“I’m all sorts of nice,” Hinata says, elaborating. Komaeda’s eyes lift up to meet his again. “Sometimes, when I want to be. If I like the person enough.”

 

The heaviness grows between them, palpable and thick and hanging profoundly between them, until neither of them really care that Kuzuryuu was just a few feet away or that their friends along the beach could see them. They did not care, for a single instant, that they were damaged and unredeemable in the eyes of the world, that their hands that carried blood and wore blood like a glove mere months ago were now inches apart—that this _meant something_ , that this would _change_ things and twist things in strange, unchartered territory, in places Hinata never thought about nor cared to cross, but was now willing to leap into, stride through, swim until he could no longer breathe. This heaviness that had been in the game, that had plagued him and angered him and made him feel so much resentment at Komaeda for what he had done—

 

—except that he is here now. He is still alive, and he is breathing on his own, living and watching and learning and looking at Hinata like he could see through him. Hinata wouldn’t be surprised if he could read every single thought that is passing through his mind.

 

He sees from the corner of his vision that Ibuki is slowly coming back to the beach. Hinata licks his lips and makes a choice.

 

“You were right,” Hinata says softly.

 

Komaeda blinks. That was the last thing he expected to hear.

 

“About what?”

 

“About me,” Hinata breaks his gaze from Komaeda and looks between them, noticing how close their hands have gotten. “It—it was wrong of me to lecture you to move on, and to somehow be okay with yourself and what you’ve done. I thought I was handling it but, honestly?” Hinata shakes his head. “I’m not. I can’t. Not anymore, not on my own. You…you were right in that I was trying to deny the memories. I didn’t want to believe that they were coming back to me. I didn’t _want_ them. And after last night, I realized I can’t do this by myself. This is happening. And no one else would understand.”

 

Komaeda watches him, his eyes wide and his body still, yet not stiff. There is something in the way he is looking at Hinata, a hint of something that looked like…sadness?

 

 Slowly, Komaeda parts his lips and says, “What…exactly are you trying to tell me?”

 

Hinata leans a little closer, and says quietly, “There’s a reason my eyes are red.”

 

Perhaps, in a parallel universe where similar events panned out differently by changing the courses of actions and decisions enacted by an individual, Hinata would know what Komaeda would have said next. But he does not, and will likely never know, for the very next moment a blood-curdling scream rips through the air.

 

Hinata whirls around and sees Ibuki lying on the sand, a pale blue towel wrapped around her head, and her body convulsing every few seconds.

 

“What the hell!”

 

Souda’s hands hover over Ibuki for a moment with indecision, before grabbing the end of the towel and ripping it off of Ibuki’s hair. Almost instantly, her body goes limp. He throws the towel aside and gathers Ibuki in his arms, staggering to his feet and bringing her to the long beach chair.

 

“What happened?” Sonia says shrilly, her hands clasped together in fright.

 

“She went for the towel to dry her hair,” Kuzuryuu replies in shock, gazing at Ibuki with trepidation. “I don’t understand what…”

 

“I think,” Owari says quietly, and they all turn to look at her. She is standing far from them, and in her hand is the soft blue towel that had been wrapped around Ibuki’s head, “that we should all take a look at this.”

 

Souda walks over to her and grabs the towel. Unfurling it, a small, silver device reflects in the light.

 

“S-someone tried to hurt us?” Sonia gasps.

 

“No,” Owari says quietly. “Someone tried to kill us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up late to finish this and I've been at it for hours so I'm sorry if you see mistakes I promise I'll go back and fix them tomorrow, I just wanted you all to have the chance to read it at least!
> 
> Thank you again and again and again for being so kind in your feedback, I never imagined that anybody would actually read this fic let alone like it, but it means so much that you do. 
> 
> This chapter might seem confusing and different than the others but everything is written with a purpose and not everything is as it seems. Keep that in mind.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! xx


	8. Liar

**Chapter 8: Liar**

“No. No, no, no, no…”

 

She’s breathing deeply. Her limbs dangle like a limp doll in Souda’s arms, dark hair with streaks of purple hanging as though they were a drape, fluttering softly with each step Souda takes. Hinata never realized how long her hair was until seeing it this way.

 

The hospital is quiet when Owari kicks open the door. Souda’s arms are trembling from the strain, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead as he tries to find a bed to put Ibuki on.

 

“Here,” Sonia gestures at an open door closest to them, and they rush inside. The room is clean and the bedsheets fresh and pressed neatly under the mattress. Sonia yanks them off and Souda gently lays Ibuki down. Kuzuryuu strides in with two nurses behind him, and they run to Ibuki’s side.

 

“What happened?” a nurse demands as she takes Ibuki’s pulse.

 

Hinata’s chest tightens and he backs away as Sonia tries to explain—tries, because Souda keeps interrupting—he glances at Owari, whose muscles are tense and her jaw is set, grinding her teeth as if stopping herself from saying something—Kuzuryuu looks angry if not for the way he gnaws on his lower lip, the frightened jerk of his eyes as they flit between the nurses and Ibuki…

 

Hinata looks at Komaeda last, and Komaeda looks back at him. He sees worry.

 

The doctor enters the room, and the nurses pull him aside. For one awkward moment they’re all silent, save for the rapid whispering from the nurses.

 

The doctor breaks from the nurses and turns to the rest of them. “Where is the device that electrocuted her?”

 

Owari steps forward. Ibuki’s towel is in her hands, twisted into a tight knot. Unfurling it, she lets the small silver device slip onto her hand and drops it into the doctor’s.

 

They watch as he inspects it closely. “This’ll have to be sent to the lab for investigation,” he says finally, and hands it off to a nurse. “It’s quite clear, however, that this was no accident.”

 

“Hang on,” says Souda, glaring at the nurse. “You’re not taking that anywhere.”

 

“Souda-kun, they have to—” Sonia starts.

 

“I know exactly what they want,” he replies swiftly. “But someone’s gotta go with her and see what happens as they investigate it.”

 

“And why would that be necessary?” the doctor asks.

 

“Because, you half-wit,” Kuzuryuu snaps, and everyone turns to look at him, “for all we know, it was _you guys_ who planted that damn thing into the towel. We’re not taking our chances.”

 

“Are—you trying to say _we_ tried to kill our own patient?” the nurse says incredulously. “After all we did to bring her back?”

 

“Yeah...I thought that was pretty clear what I was trying to say?” Kuzuryuu retorts mockingly.

 

“This is ridiculous,” the doctor snaps. “We know every single one of your case histories, we know who you were and who you are now—we would never have been hired if we held a vendetta against your group! And regardless if we _did_ , our oath as medical professionals would never allow us to discriminate or harm a patient!”

 

“Oh you know us, alright,” Owari says, her voice wavering. “You’d know exactly what it would take to hurt us, isn’t that right?”

 

“I will not hear this!”

 

Komaeda makes a soft noise, and Hinata glances at him. He’s frowning deeply. “What is it?” Hinata asks.

 

Komaeda bites his lip, shaking his head. “Simply thinking. It seems far too obvious not to mention _frivolous_ to accuse the hospital staff of hurting Ibuki.”

 

They all pause and stare at Komaeda. He laughs nervously, waving his hand away. “Ah, but that’s me speaking when I shouldn’t. Continue.”

 

“What makes you think it’s not them?” Kuzuryuu asks, scrutinizing Komaeda.

 

Komaeda shrugs, dropping his hand. “Well first, the towel wasn’t from the hospital.” Hinata looks at the towel in Owari’s hand, and she stares at it in surprise. “Second, really? The people who brought the likes of _me_ back would try to kill us? Now? Why not when their hands were digging in our brains? It would’ve been so simple to say we died on the table. No, it’s far, far too easy to pin this on the staff. They had nothing to do with this.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” Sonia asks slowly, her eyes widening.

 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Komaeda smiles. “One of us did it.”

 

Komaeda’s words hang in the air. Hinata closes his eyes. He knew…he knew it was this, but to hear it aloud…

 

“M-maybe it’s a mistake?” Sonia’s voice trembling, “maybe it was in the towel by accident, maybe—maybe—”

 

“Sonia-san.”

 

Souda says her name softly, resignedly. Her eyes glisten, and she looks away.

 

“You…” the doctor shakes his head, looking very alarmed. “None of you are allowed in this hospital anymore.”

 

Hinata looks up sharply. “ _What?”_

The doctor looks tense, his face turning red as the nurses move closer to him. “We came to this island under the impression that no harm would come to us,” he says tersely. “Let alone that you would try to hurt each other again. No, we cannot risk it. Nobody else is allowed in this hospital until the culprit is found. Togami must be informed immediately.”

 

“You can’t stop us from visiting!” Owari says indignantly. “Our other friends will wake up any day now, and we have to check on Ibuki to make sure—”

 

“That she’s safe from you!” a nurse exclaims as she starts ushering them away. “All of you! Until we know who did this and what happened, nobody but hospital personnel will be entering and exiting this hospital! Now OUT!”

 

They’re forced to leave the room and are pushed out of the hospital unwillingly. Kuzuryuu tries to fight back but a security guard lifts him bodily and shoves him out.

 

“This is no good…” Komaeda mutters quietly.

 

They retreat to the cafeteria in silence, but the energy around is tense, dangerous. Hinata does not dare glance at anything but the path ahead.

 

Once inside, the words spill upon themselves.

 

“Well, which one of ya did it?” Souda glares at them individually.

 

“Nobody did it,” Sonia says angrily. “None of us would do this! Not even in the game, none of us…none of us did anything!”

 

“ _He_ did do something in the game,” Kuzuryuu says quietly.

 

They look at Komaeda.

 

Komaeda’s lips twitch upward. “As always…my service will always be to you, to the talent…do what you need with me.”

 

Something in Hinata snaps. “Are you kidding me? Komaeda again? You’re not even trying this time, you’re blindly pinning this on him!”

 

“Hinata…”

 

“And you!” Hinata rounds on Komaeda, who promptly shuts his mouth. “Stop letting them throw you under the bus! Better yet, stop laying down to make it easier for them! God damn it Komaeda!”

 

“Oh yeah?” Kuzuryuu says challengingly. “How are you so sure Komaeda wasn’t involved, huh? Pretty quick to defend him.”

 

“Because he was with me the entire day,” Hinata retorts. “Look, we’re going about this all the wrong way. We have to start from the beginning and figure out who did it, just like always. It’s the only way truly figure out what happened.”

 

They seem to consider Hinata’s words, much to his relief. “So should we…investigate?” Sonia asks tentatively. She looks surprised to even say it, but she is right.

 

“Y-yes,” Hinata says finally. “Yes, we have to investigate. We’re banned from the hospital so we can’t check there, but there’s plenty of other places to look.”

 

“And then what?” Kuzuryuu asks bluntly. “We have a trial? Who’s gonna play Monobear?”

 

“ _Nobody is playing Monobear!”_ Owari screams, and they all jump, even Hinata. “We’re not in the game! We’re not holding Monobear’s trial! We’re—we’re not going through this again, we can’t!”

 

“Why are you so resistant to fair trial?” Komaeda looks at Owari, a strange look in his gaze. “Come to think of it, Owari-san…you had a similar outburst on the beach when Hinata questioned how safe it would be to have Ibuki-san swim. You were very insistent that she should go in the water with you.”

  
“Yeah, what of it?” Owari crosses her arms. “She wanted to swim, I volunteered to help. She needed the exercise.”

 

“But you lashed out when someone questioned you…” Kuzuryuu says slowly. “What if you knew Ibuki needed to get wet to really be hurt by that device?”

 

Owari’s face turns deadly.

 

“You dare accuse me of sabotaging that towel, intentionally taking Ibuki to swim, and trying to kill her?” Her knuckles turn white. “You dare accuse me to hurt my friends!”

 

“Why not?” Kuzuryuu says hotly, straining to be taller as he glared up at her. “You threaten to beat one of us to a pulp every day! All because you want a challenge! Well add this one to your list!”

 

“Guys! No!” Sonia shouts over them as they stride towards each other, and Hinata knows Kuzuryuu is just as ready to fight as Owari, his body shaking with adrenaline. Sonia steps between them and holds back Owari, who’s desperately swinging her fist around Sonia that just misses Kuzuryuu’s nose.

 

“Oh yeah, pretty boy! Oh yeah, Mr. _Yakuza_! You’re one to run your mouth when _you’re_ most suspicious out of all of us!”

 

“How the hell did you come up with that?” Kuzuryuu growls.

 

“You refused to get in the water yesterday!” Owari attacks triumphantly, going still in Sonia’s arms. “We all saw you sitting all quiet at your beach chair. What was it you said to us yesterday after my ‘outburst’? What was it—‘We’ll all swim,’ you said. Funny how you ended up staying put.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kuzuryuu spats. “I didn’t feel like swimming. You calmed down enough that I wasn’t forced to go in the ocean.”

 

“Betchya knew if you got wet and accidentally picked up that towel, you’d be the one to get electrocuted,” Owari sneers, and Sonia lets her go as she slowly turns her gaze to Kuzuryuu. His eyes widen, sensing the suspicion hovering in Sonia’s saddened eyes.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Kuzuryuu takes a step back. “I’d never hurt Ibuki. Why would I? Plus, I know nothing about electric stuff—ask anyone! Ask them!” He looks pointedly at Souda, Hinata, and Komaeda. “You heard me say it. I don’t know shit about electrical stuff.”

 

“He did say that,” Hinata agrees quietly. “He wouldn’t help Souda with the stage because of it.”

 

“See!” Kuzuryuu turns back to Sonia. “I’d never even know how to make something that could hurt people the way it hurt Ibuki.”

 

Sonia blinks, and looks from Kuzuryuu to Souda. Up until then he’d been pacing, but he stops abruptly when the rest of the group looks to him.

 

“You think _I_ did it? Are you all fucking idiots?”

 

“You _do_ know the most about mechanics…” Kuzuryuu says mutedly. Souda laughs incredulously.

 

“Right, that makes total sense. I work my ass off trying to find a way to cure everyone—which I end up doing—then look after Ibuki the moment she wakes up as if my life depended on it—then build a fucking _stage_ for her and _dye her hair_ , yeah I’m totally the fucker that tried to kill her!”

 

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Sonia says quickly, looking troubled and ashamed. “We’re sorry, we know you couldn’t have done it, I’m sorry.”

 

Souda makes a noise of disgust and resumes his pacing. “Don’t understand why you can’t see it when it’s right in front of you,” he glances over at Hinata and Komaeda. “ _These_ two are suspicious as hell too. These two sat out on the beach too.”

 

Hinata’s stomach drops. “What? Us?”

 

“Yeah, you two,” Owari says slowly, as if realizing something important. “You two were the only ones to go off on your own when you went to make the food for the party.”

 

“You two were the ones who came door-to-door telling us about the party in the first place,” Kuzuryuu frowns.

 

“And neither of you went to swim…” Sonia said shrilly.

 

“To be fair, I wasn’t too optimistic about the swimming, given this,” Komaeda holds up his arm, showing where a hand used to be. A murmur of understanding spreads among them. “But, to be fair to you guys, I _was_ the one who suggesting throwing a party for us anyway. I’m looking pretty suspicious.”

 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says frustratedly.

 

“You do too, Hinata,” Komaeda says bluntly, shocking Hinata. Komaeda stares at him innocuously. “I mean, I don’t think you did it either, but to follow the illogical reasoning everyone is throwing out here, I’d say the fact you seem _least_ likely means you’re _most_ likely. The very fact that nobody knows or cares what you do is alarming in itself.”

 

Hinata is speechless. He looks at Komaeda in disbelief, and Kuzuryuu snaps irately, “Damn it, are you calling us illogical?”

 

Komaeda tears his gaze from Hinata and smiles down at Kuzuryuu. “Of course.”

 

**-:-**

“Why are you so angry?”

 

The words, spoken so easily yet thick with confusion that Hinata could unwillingly surmise to be genuine, cause Hinata to stop walking.

 

He turns to look at Komaeda, and he can’t prevent the anger in his tone. “You basically told them that we’re the ones who hurt Ibuki and planted that thing in her towel. I think I have the right to be a little annoyed.”

 

“But I didn’t,” Komaeda furrows his brow. “I made that very clear.”

 

Hinata gapes. “How—how did you make that clear? Was it the part where you said ‘I’m looking suspicious’ or was it the part where you said ‘you do too, Hinata’?”

 

“All the parts after that,” Komaeda replies seriously. He tilts his head just slightly, a worried look overcoming him. “I would never drag your name unwarranted. I have no need for it.”

 

“But you did,” says Hinata.

 

“But I didn’t,” says Komaeda emphatically. “Didn’t you hear? Illogical, that whole discussion was pure garbage! I said it, right there, Kuzuryuu realized it, everything was so ridiculous. You had to have noticed _that_. The accusations were meaningless. I simply added to the meaningless discussion with more meaningless accusations.”

 

Hinata huffed. “Well—you shouldn’t have! It’s already taken time for them to get used to you; you don’t need to stir the pot.”

 

“The laymen’s words are always so fascinating,” Komaeda chuckles, and Hinata rolls his eyes and returns to walking. “Under a bus, stirring a pot, really stimulating and culturally-drawn language passed down until it loses it meaning.”

 

“It doesn’t lose meaning, it just—I don’t know, changes,” Hinata says gruffly. “It’s not that interesting.”

 

“Mm,” Komaeda hums. “Where are we headed to first?”

 

Hinata looks at him oddly. “I didn’t know you wanted to investigate with me.”

 

Komaeda shrugs. “Who else would I go with?”

 

Hinata shrugs as well. “Uh, I guess we can start with the rooms. I’m sure whoever made this device would’ve made it in private…although honestly, I’m not too sure about ruling out the hospital staff either.”

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah,” Hinata says seriously. “I mean sure they have their oath and stuff but really, who of _us_ would try to hurt Ibuki?”

 

Komaeda looks pensive. “None of us would ever want to _hurt_ Ibuki, let alone kill her,” he says carefully. “That much, I am sure.”

 

Hinata nods sharply. “Exactly. Back on the beach, everyone was just riled up because we were upset. But we’d never do something like that…definitely not.”

 

“So why are we investigating?” Komaeda asks quietly.

 

Hinata sighs, and turns to Komaeda. His eyes are soft with sadness. “Because we’ve been wrong before.”

 

They walk in silence for several minutes, the only sound coming from the distance crash of waves and the circling sea gulls above them, little winged shadows flitting over the sand they soared over. The tumult after Ibuki’s injury had made him forget the things he’d been feeling just before, the things he’d been about to say…he wonders briefly if he will ever have that chance again, ever muster the courage again to come close to where Hinata was going…the things his mind and heart desperately wanted Komaeda to hear.

 

Hinata glances surreptitiously at Komaeda. He’s staring ahead, eyes lost in thought as the wind flutters his hair. Hinata swallows and looks away.

 

“This one’s first,” Komaeda announces, and Hinata frowns.

 

“Ibuki’s? Seems a little weird, don’t you think?”

 

“Why? If I were a culprit, I’d make sure I’d do my dirty work where no one would look.” Komaeda looks at Ibuki’s door. “A room that still isn’t lived in would be the ideal place.”

 

Hinata follows Komaeda inside. Hinata’s eyes are immediately assaulted with bright colors, and he squints at the bedroom in disbelief.

 

“Good god,” Hinata gapes.

 

“Brilliant!” Komaeda grins.

 

Hinata looks at him grievously, filing the bit of information in a sad and plump Komaeda-folder.

 

“It’s like she took everything bright from the supply store and shoved it in her room,” Hinata shakes his head as he idly picks up an untouched notepad.

 

“Mm, if we’re being fair then she didn’t do that at all. She hasn’t lived in here yet, remember?”

 

“Oh…right, she was still staying at the hospital. So who…?” Hinata stops himself, chuckling under his breath. “Why did I even ask.”

 

“Yes, of all their illogical arguments, Souda’s made the most sense,” Komaeda replies reasonably. “He really cares about her.”

 

Hinata makes a face. “I don’t get it at all.” At Komaeda’s inquisitive look, Hinata elaborates, “I mean I _get it_ , but I don’t see where it came from all of a sudden. We all knew he liked Sonia.”

 

“Who we like doesn’t necessarily mean it’s who we want to be with,” Komaeda said sensibly. “Look at you. You liked Chiaki, didn’t you?”

 

Hinata is taken aback, staring at Komaeda to determine if he was being serious. As always, Komaeda expression was unreadable.

 

“Yeah, _Nanami_ was a friend, but…?”

 

“But she’s not the one you want. Or will want someday. It would’ve been very pathetic if you did actually love her.”

 

“She was real,” Hinata narrows his eyes. “Maybe not physically, but she made a real difference in there. She protected us. I’m not ashamed to have been a friend to her.”

 

Something in Komaeda shifts, and Hinata gets the faint feeling that he said the wrong thing….but it was the truth. Why should Hinata say anything different than what he means?

 

“There’s nothing here,” Komaeda says dismissively, and heads for the door. “Let’s move on?”

 

Hinata looks around the room one last time, but knows nothing would be found here. “Okay.”

 

Hinata’s room is next, and he smirks a little at Komaeda’s suddenly interested look at his nails. “I knew you were curious.”

 

Komaeda’s mouth parts in surprise, words frozen in his throat, but he doesn’t deny it and Hinata’s smile fades, until he’s vaguely aware that Komaeda’s skin has a tinge of pink and his eyes are wide, wider as if trying to see as much of Hinata as he can—Hinata’s eyes don’t leave Komaeda’s as he opens the door and lets it swing open. Komaeda breaks their gaze to look at the entrance to Hinata’s bedroom, and Hinata gestures for Komaeda to enter first.

 

Hinata steps in after him and winces. God, he should’ve cleaned up at least _once_ since he woke up from the game…neurology books are still piled haphazardly next to his bed where he left them after Komaeda’s operation. Komaeda crouches down and picks up one.

 

“You really read into these,” he mutters, thumbing through the pages with a deceptively careful idleness. “You studied.”

 

“I did.” Hinata presses his lips together, glancing down at the floor. He feels Komaeda looking at him. “I wanted everyone back. Badly enough to read through scientific journals that took three read-throughs to make sense of.”

 

Komaeda looks at him for a long moment before gently replacing the book onto the pile, then rises to his feet. Hinata’s feeling that tightness of his stomach again, the nervous, anticipatory twisting and turning of his insides that felt like he was ignited and doused. Komaeda stands close to him—Hinata wasn’t aware how closely Hinata’d been standing by him until now—and says quietly, “Your room’s clear. We should move on.”

 

Komaeda steps away from him and Hinata releases a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. Closing his eyes briefly and shaking his head despite himself, Hinata turns to follow Komaeda out the door.

 

They’re entering Komaeda’s room next, and Hinata knows something is different. The energy is different, the way Komaeda walks is different, and Hinata’s muscles tauten as he crosses the threshold. His fingers brush against the door and give it the smallest, gentlest nudge…and the door, by the laws of physics and utmost divine providence, closes shut with a soft _click_.

 

Komaeda stands far off, his hands clasped together. “Go ahead,” he gestures to the room with a genial smile. “Look around. Make sure to check every corner; you don’t want to miss anything and be called out on conspiring with me.”

 

“I’ll be thorough,” Hinata says dryly, and begins to look around. Komaeda’s room is exactly the way he remembered; tidy, small, with a crutch leaning against the wall. There’s a few books in his room too, most of which Hinata knew were idle reads from the supply shop, but he spotted a mint physics textbook as well.

 

Hinata snorts at the irony.

 

He moves along and approaches the desk, picking up the comb. He peruses the drawers and finds dust in one and a worn notepad in another, and Hinata sneezes.

 

“Hinata,” says Komaeda.

 

“Hm?”

 

“What…what were you going to tell me before? Back on the beach?”

 

Hinata’s hand freezes over the drawer just as he was about to close it. “What?”

 

He turns slowly, and Komaeda has drifted closer to him. “Before,” he repeats, peering through Hinata’s eyes as if trying to find the answer in them. “When we were talking…and you said many things.”

 

Hinata licks his lips and leans against the table for support. “About the memories?”

 

“That, yes…and other things.” Komaeda’s eyes roam Hinata’s face before saying suddenly, “But I don’t mean to distract you. You should continue what you were doing.”

 

“No, no, I—I want to tell, that is….” Hinata breathes in deeply, apprehensively. “It was a really…difficult topic and—and I guess I wanted to share it with you. At the right time.”

 

“But why? Why?”

 

“Because it would make me happy if you knew.”

 

Komaeda stares at him wordlessly. Hinata shifts uncomfortably when Komaeda doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch or blink even when Hinata smiles a little nervously.

 

“You were my first friend,” Komaeda says quietly, breaking the strange silence. “You shouldn’t be my friend. What were you thinking, Hinata…”

 

Hinata doesn’t like the way Komaeda suddenly shifted to worry, and something that bordered too close with self-loathing. Hinata stepped closer and shook Komaeda’s shoulder. “Hey. That’s all the game, okay? I know what you did, and to some level I know why you did it. As for the friends,” Hinata shakes his head, “you were the first person I saw when I woke up on that beach. What else did you expect from me?”

 

Komaeda looks at him thoughtfully. “Do you think, if someone else had stayed behind to wait for you to wake up, you would be their friend the way you are with me?”

 

He doesn’t need to think twice on the meaning layered between those words, those chosen words Komaeda throws at him as if it trying to see if it would deter him. The nervousness and the sentimentality behind them almost make Hinata smile.

 

Instead Hinata’s gaze softens, and he shakes his head. “No…I don’t think I would have.”

 

Komaeda shakes his head, staring at their shoes. “Oh,” he sighs, “I don’t even know if I care about the eyes anymore.”

 

He looks at Hinata and they’re both holding their breath—Hinata knows Komaeda senses it, knows Komaeda understands what this all meant—he glances down at Hinata’s mouth for a fraction of a second, but it’s all Hinata needs to lean forward and press the lightest of touches against Komaeda’s lips.

 

Komaeda inhales sharply and Hinata pulls back instantly, fearful of having misjudged it after all and to spend the rest of his days on the island in awkward bypasses. But Komaeda is smiling, though incredulous and flushed it is; he repeats under his breath, “I knew you heard me, I knew you knew, I knew felt it…”

 

Hinata blushes and looks away, abashed and happy, and when he looks back Komaeda he knows he’s doomed.

 

A bright light flashes through the window and they both flinch. A loud blaring fills the room and Hinata sees a helicopter landing onto the beach. “Togami,” Hinata exclaims, and turns to Komaeda. “They’ll be heading for the hospital! Come on, maybe we can get in there too and explain to him!”

 

Komaeda nods curtly and they rush out of the room and dart for the beach. The helicopter is deafening, sand whipping around them mercilessly until the pilot turns it off. He sees Togami, Kirigiri, and Naegi striding towards the hospital, and far in the distance Hinata spots the rest of his friends rushing to see what was causing the noise.

 

“Hey!” Hinata shouts as he runs towards the trio. “Hey, wait! Listen!”

 

Komaeda is panting beside him and Hinata links their arms together, running with all their might. “HEY!”

 

They stop, and Togami glances at them distastefully as Kirigiri breaks away from them and walks towards Hinata.

 

“Is it true?” she asks him seriously, and Hinata shakes his head.

 

“No, no—it’s not us, none of us were trying to kill Ibuki, I swear—”

 

“Do _you?_ ”

 

Hinata pauses, looking at Kirigiri in astonishment.

 

“ _Kirigiri!_ ”

Kirigiri wheels around as Naegi almost drags her inside the hospital. “She remembers! She remembers! They need help!”

 

“She’s—”

 

“ _We need to go!_ ”

 

Kirigiri wastes no time to run with Naegi. Hinata exchanges looks with Komaeda, who looks equally shocked.

 

“The door,” Komaeda notes urgently, “they forgot to close it. Nobody’s there.”

 

“Let’s go!”

 

They run into the hospital and Hinata’s heart wrenches when he hears the screams coming from Ibuki’s room. He hears footsteps behind him, and loud shouts that indicate the rest of his friends caught up and are now in the hospital too.

 

“I-Ibuki,” Souda says weakly. The sound of Ibuki’s wails grows louder with each step, and they’re being pushed around as nurses and security guards rush into her room. The blood-curdling scream seems to never end, the voice that once held melodies now rings fervently with despair.

 

They find her sitting upright in the hospital bed, her cheeks tearstained and her hands balled in fists, clasped tightly around dark strands that with a sickened realization Hinata knows to be her own hair.

 

“I don’t want this! I don’t want them, take them away! Take them _awaaay_!”

 

“There’s nothing here, Ibuki-san! There’s nothing!” A nurse tries desperately to calm her.

 

“In here,” she sobs, and tries to pull at her scalp again. “In here, they’re all in here, I don’t want them…” her voice breaks, and Hinata can’t breathe, “I’m her…it’s real that I’m her, it’s still me…this is who I am.”

 

“She remembers,” Sonia breathes, tears dropping delicately onto her cheeks. “She remembers everything.”

 

The sound of Ibuki’s crying cuts Hinata deeply, and he leaves the room. It doesn’t make sense…how can she possibly remember? How does she know what happened when it should have been impossible?

 

He doesn’t notice that the others follow him out the door, but looks up when Kuzuryuu speaks.

 

“It must’ve been the device,” he says mutedly. “It must’ve short-circuited her brain somehow, making her remember things. Like when you fix an erratic heartbeat with a defibrillator. Electric shit.”

 

Hinata jolts.

 

“Electric…” he stares at Komaeda, shaking his head disbelievingly. “No…no, why _would you?”_

 

Komaeda says nothing as he stares blankly back at Hinata.

 

“H-Hinata-kun, what are you saying?” Sonia asks nervously.

 

“How careless of me,” Hinata laughs bitterly at himself, staring at his hands. “It was there, all there, and you didn’t try to deceive me either…you made it simpler if anything. The dust and the notepad, the damn textbook lying in the open—your line!” Hinata is incredulous, and Komaeda merely watches him with a frown. “‘I’d do my dirty work where no one would look’—oh that’s brilliant.”

 

“Hinata, what is going on?” Owari demands.

 

Hinata’s expression hardens, feeling so foolish and hopeless and an overwhelming anger. “It was Komaeda after all.”

 

They turn to Komaeda. He smiles faintly.

 

“And where did I make that device, Hinata?” he asks softly.

 

Hinata furrows his brows. “Are you fucking kidding? You’re going to _test_ me now?”

 

“It’s a simple question, Hinata, no need to get defensive,” Komaeda says coolly. “You made your accusation. Now, where did I do it? And why? There _must_ be a motive. We can’t say this case is solved unless you have the answers to all the questions.”

 

Hinata hates him so much, and he wants nothing more than to grab Komaeda by the shoulders and throw him to the ground. It takes every bit of strength not to act on the thought.

 

It was less easy for Souda.

 

“You’re a sick bastard, that’s your motive!” Souda yells, and marches to Komaeda without preamble and punches him in the mouth.

 

Komaeda staggers, a trail of blood falling from the corner of his mouth. He grins, dark red staining in his teeth, and he spits blood onto the floor.

 

“I’m afraid you’re wrong on half of that accusation,” Komaeda laughs heartily. “I was definitely not a bastard.”

 

Hinata thinks rapidly, forcing his eyes closed and clutches his hands to his air. Why did he do this? Where did he do it? Why did he do this? Where did he do it? _Why why WHY—_

“You were the one to shut down the idea that the hospital staff was responsible,” Hinata says suddenly. “You started that all. You made us think that one of us tried to kill Ibuki, making the hospital staff panic and lock us out…that stops us from visiting to see how Ibuki is doing, what happened to the device, and most importantly…” Hinata glowers at him. “You worked on that device in the hospital. Isn’t that right?”

 

“Correct!” Komaeda says with glee. “I couldn’t have anyone snooping in the hospital, could I? It’d be too easy! But I _was_ disappointed when everyone gave up on that so easily…if it were me, I would try to sneak my way inside somehow and investigate anyway. Now all that’s left is _why._ ”

 

_Why? Why, why…?_

“I’ll tell you why,” Hinata whispers, and comes close enough to Komaeda so that their bangs brush against each other. “You’re the pathetic person who needed to be right.”

 

Komaeda stills. The playful look is gone, as if it had never been there at all. He looks back at Hinata with something akin to regret, the same look he’d seen earlier on the beach just before Hinata had told him everything…

 

“Right again,” says Komaeda. “Trial’s over.”

 

Hinata steps away in disgust. Souda, Owari, and Kuzuryuu stare in shock.

 

“Why?” Sonia whispers. “Why, Komaeda-kun? Why would you do this?”

 

Komaeda looks at Sonia, his expression apathetic. “Because, Your Highness,” he says, “one of use here is a liar.”

 

He’s looking at Souda, and Souda growls, “The fuck are you talking about, shiteater? What other lies are you trying to spin?”

 

“On the contrary, I’m unraveling the ones you wove since the day you woke up,” Komaeda replies coldly. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 

“Knew what, you piece of shit?”

 

“You tried to cover it up. They’d never understand what it meant, they didn’t know the semantics behind it. In fact, they came to _you_ , didn’t they?”

 

“I haven’t done anything!”

 

“Poor Hinata here had to read it three times to even begin to understand but _you_ ; you had it all figured out immediately. That’s the beauty of talent, isn’t it?”

 

“Komaeda-kun, you’re not making sense,” Sonia snaps.

 

Hinata’s gaze darts between Komaeda and Souda, and a terrible feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. No…

 

“Souda made an executive decision,” Komaeda says loudly, his lips curled in a vicious sneer, “I knew as soon as I started digging—and I didn’t have to dig very deeply. He knew, from the moment he finished his research, on how to bring our memories back.”

 

Sonia gasps.

 

“Are you insane?” Kuzuryuu says angrily. “That’s impossible, that shit’s been wiped clean!”

 

“With a failsafe,” says Komaeda. “The scientists who worked on us were no fools. There’s always a failsafe; nothing is ever gone forever, everything is permanent. Like the internet.”

 

“Is…is this true?” Owari looks at Souda slowly. “Is there a way for us to remember?”

 

Souda is sweating, and he tugs at his cap. “N-no, that’s crazy! He’s lying!”

 

“It’s admirable you tried to protect us, coward,” Komaeda says gently. “You were afraid of what would happen if we all really _did_ remember. Friendship and strength is all well and good, especially in the game. It’s how you beat it in the first place. But the real world? With real consequences? Well,” Komaeda laughs to himself, “you didn’t want to risk that.”

 

“Why Ibuki?” Hinata asks quietly. It is the first thing he says since the truth came out. Komaeda falters a bit, but nods.

 

“She is strongest out of all of us—mentally, that is,” Komaeda explains. “I knew after assessing her for several days. All of us here are too far gone, but Ibuki—she could handle it. She wouldn’t fall into despair either, not again.”

 

“How could you be so sure?” says Sonia furiously. “Who were you to make that decision?”

 

Komaeda shrugs. “I am what I’ve always been. These decisions are made for me to make.”

 

Hinata closes his eyes. The thoughts in his mind make no sense, and he knows standing here and listening to more of this would only make him even more ill. Too much, this was too much. “I’m leaving.”

 

“Hinata-kun!” Sonia cries.

 

Hinata shakes his head and leaves. The sand flies at his feet as he strides to the ocean, the sound growing louder and louder with each step. His pace quickens as the waves crash before him as if falling into a dance of prayer, and Hinata wilts. His knees crash into the sand and he holds his head in his hands. The tide surges forward and engulfs him in cold, salty water. His breathing is shallow, but he stays until his entire body is numb.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh it's been a while! I hope this chapter was as fun to read as it was for me to write. Investigations are so much fun, and even though this one isn't as in-depth as I would've liked, it was still fun to do! You guys are really amazing and just, thank you so much for your support and enthusiasm for this fic. xxx 
> 
> I'm very tired so I haven't checked through for any errors, I'm sorry! I always check it the very next day, so don't worry. I just want you to get the chance to read this the moment I'm finished with writing it. 
> 
> Until next time! xx


	9. Aftermath

**Chapter Nine: Aftermath**

**-:-**

The cold hurts. It bites away at his skin and robs the breath from his lungs. He’s shaking and unfeeling, until Hinata pushes away from the tide and crawls lethargically back up the beach.

 

The cold hurts him fiercely until he collapses on the wet sand and rolls onto his back, staring numbly at the sky. His head is throbbing and Hinata fears it, because he knows what will come with it.

 

The fear makes him furious. He’s well and properly _furious_ ; he hates the island, he hates his eyes, he hates everything inside of him that’s kept locked away—savagely he thinks maybe he was better off dead after all.

 

“Pathetic,” he says to the sky, and the sound is odd to his ears; deeper somehow, uncaring.

 

 “So pathetic…”

 

He jolts when a pair of hands suddenly grab his shoulders and haul him up. “H-hey!” he protests angrily. A security guard has hold of him, and ignores him as he drags Hinata away from the shore. “The hell is wrong with you? Let me go!”

 

Hinata catches sight of several other security guards up ahead, each with someone struggling in their grasp...he sees Sonia first, and the sight of her being dragged away like a convict makes Hinata’s mind boil in rage.

 

They are catching up with the rest of the group, and he can hear Sonia’s shouts, “Release me! I will walk, I say! You fools!”

 

Something snaps in his head and without really processing what was happening, the man who had been dragging Hinata is now in a headlock, his face turning purple, and Hinata’s arm wrapped mercilessly around his neck. This strength is unlike anything he felt before—didn’t know he _had this_ in him, before—the man goes limp in his arms and with widened eyes Hinata releases him as if scalded, staggering back. The security guard coughs violently on his knees.

 

 

He looks up at Hinata, frightened.

 

“What the hell, kid?”

 

Hinata looks back to Sonia, who is no longer being dragged but still held by the arm. He sees the rest of his friends in similar grasps, all staring at Hinata.

 

“D…don’t grab me ever again,” says Hinata hoarsely. “We’ll walk. Don’t hold us like we’re criminals.”

 

 _You are,_ the voice says plainly, yawning. The guard says nothing, probably still recovering from being strangled. He stumbles to his feet and glares at Hinata angrily.

 

“Walk.”

 

He keeps his distance. Hinata notices the guard’s shadow fiddling with the side of his pants. A taser, likely. Hinata wonders why the guard hadn’t used it on him.

 

He knows, of course. He stares at his hands, and they no longer feel like they’re his.

 

They’re led across the bridge and straight for the central island. Togami, Naegi, and Kirigiri, as well as a fully armed staff, are waiting for them.

 

They’re marched in a line, side by side. Sonia is to his right. She glances at him worriedly, and Hinata looks to his left. Owari does not look at him, glaring intently at the trio.

 

“So,” Togami says softly, looking at all of them dispassionately. “Some of us here are liars again.”

 

Silence.

 

“I think,” Sonia says hesitantly but steadily, “you should know that despite what you may have heard, there was no attempt of murder.”

 

“How so?” asks Kirigiri, folding her arms. “Komaeda admitted his guilt moments ago.”

 

“Y-yes,” Sonia acquiesces, her eyes flitting nervously to Komaeda. Komaeda is the only one with his hands bound behind his back. “He’s guilty of causing harm to Ibuki, but not to kill or seriously injure. There…there wasn’t any intent to murder, but to…”

 

She falls silent. Hinata is almost surprised by Sonia’s boldness and willingness to defend Komaeda, given everything. Almost.

 

Kirigiri glances at them one by one. “Ibuki remembers her past,” she says matter-of-factly. “Her reaction was extreme. The nurses had to sedate her to prevent her from further harming herself. Was that the intention?”

 

Owari bows her head, and Sonia looks distraught. Hinata closes his eyes and wishes he wasn’t here, didn’t want to do this anymore, to listen—

 

“This is a waste of time,” Hinata says angrily. Naegi looks surprised, but Kirigiri’s expression does not change. “If you thought we were falling into despair you’d’ve had us all locked away safely by now.”

 

“You think having our memories back is a waste of time?” Togami’s eyes narrow at him, looking disgusted. “You must be more useless than I thought.”

 

“Do you think we’re dictators, imprisoning or killing anyone who becomes a liability?” Kirigiri snaps. “Do you not understand by now how important you are? How we had to fight to keep you alive, from our own organization bombing this island and destroying you all? And amidst all this, to get a call that one of the students was forced under temporal electrocution and has regained her memories? Did you consider we came to check that _she_ would not fall into despair again? The actions we must take next? But this is a waste of time to you.”

 

Hinata looks away, ridden with guilt, but grits his teeth. “You don’t know her at all, then. You’re wrong if you think after everything, Ibuki would so easily fall back to despair.”

 

“What would you know,” Togami barks. “You’re not recovering memories like she is. You have no idea which side she’ll turn to.”

 

Hinata bites his tongue, breathing hard. He almost wants to just _say it_ , wipe the fucking look off Togami’s haughty face and _tell them_ —

 

Hinata’s eyes flit imperceptibly over to Komaeda and the rage that is boiling in him simmers a little, though still angry and flaring. He…if Hinata said anything, Komaeda—god damn it he didn’t want to do this anymore, but being impulsive would solve nothing, and…and now was not the time. Hinata deflates inwardly.

 

“Sonia, Kuzuryuu, Souda, Owari, and me all made a choice,” Hinata says quietly, his voice shaking a little. “When we were in the game, and knew what we had done and what the world became to, we still made the right choice. When Ibuki awoke, and she knew what happened, she made her choice. Even...even Komaeda made a choice, and still is making that choice, to whatever degree he allows. The question shouldn’t be whether we will revert to what we were. Ibuki, she’s…in shock. To have so much suffering return to her so quickly would be traumatic for anyone. Give her time and you’ll see I’m right.”

 

“Your confidence is inspiring,” Togami drawls. But he no longer looks at Hinata like he’s a fly that’s in desperate need of swatting, and the tension in the air loosens a just a bit.

 

“Then we move to the larger matter,” Kirigiri states. “Two acts were committed both without right and consent. Souda and Komaeda kept secrets from us and acted on their own accord to a potentially devastating outcome. This,” her eyes sweep across the line of people slowly, “cannot be tolerated.”

 

“Hey,” Souda shouts, his voice cracking. “I-I didn’t actually _do_ anything wrong! I mean—wasn’t—wasn’t this the whole point of the New World Program anyway? You wipe our memories clean and give us a fresh start? What good would it have been to tell you there’s a way to get those memories back?”

 

“The program was made for that purpose, yes,” Naegi agrees, his voice grave. “And it partially worked. But you withheld information that, if in the hands of anybody else, would be the end of us all. Of Future Foundation. We worked tirelessly on the game, but all it took was one virus to dismantle everything we had built. If someone _unfriendly_ were to discover the key to unlocking all of our memories and try to turn us to despair again, it would be that much easier. You, Souda, should have told us.”

 

Souda is shaking where he stands, gritting his teeth and avoiding everyone’s gaze. Naegi’s expression turns thoughtful. “Fortunately, the damage done was not nearly as bad, considering.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

 

Komaeda finally speaks. His eyes are blank, not a trace of a smirk or smile on his face. Hinata has seen this look many times in the game, a look of utter surety that nobody else ever seemed to manage.

 

“You think Souda—”

 

“I do think,” Komaeda cuts Naegi off. “You’re lucky I think as much as I do. None of you bothered checking Souda’s work. But, how could you? You lack the right talent to see what I could, what _he_ could….The acts we individually committed are merely two sides of a coin—I decided to return someone their memories, Souda decided to refuse them. Both sides caused pain, did they not?”

 

“It’s not the same, you idiot!” Kuzuryuu growls, breaking from the line to look at Komaeda directly. “You targeted Ibuki, you forced her to have something she never asked! You violated her mind, her rights, you shitty fucking asshole!”

 

Komaeda stares at him. “That’s the question, then. What do we consider within our rights anymore? The history of our choices in the last two years proves we’re despicable people. Future Foundation forced their program onto us and forcefully took our memories, without our consent. And yet, that disgusting woman did the same to them,” Komaeda looks pointedly at Togami, Naegi, and Kirigiri, “but do we call _them_ monsters? Not exactly.”

 

“Are you serious right now?” Owari says incredulously. “You’re comparing them to _her?”_

“Yes,” Komaeda replies, shrugging. “I did as much wrong as Souda did the moment he decided to lie to us about recovering our memories. This meeting is pointless now.”

 

“Souda’s lack of action doesn’t compare to the actions you took,” Naegi says firmly. “You could have contacted us. We could have approached Souda. There were options you chose to ignore.”

 

Komaeda starts laughing. Kuzuryuu rolls his eyes and Naegi says something to Kirigiri that Hinata can’t catch.

 

Hinata turns to leave.

 

“Hajime Hinata,” Naegi shouts, and Hinata’s guard blocks his path. Hinata stares at him, unblinking.

 

“We’re done here,” Hinata states, his face expressionless. “You won’t hurt us or take in Souda and Komaeda. The world will continue to turn. And I’m going to bed.”

 

The guard looks past Hinata, probably at the trio. His expression sours a bit, before taking a step aside. Hinata doesn’t look at the guard twice, striding off the beach.

 

**-:-**

Hinata doesn’t come down for breakfast. If the others do, Hinata doesn’t know. For once, he doesn’t really care.

 

What was he still doing here? Hinata stares down at his hands, sitting cross-legged on the bed. The room is tidier now; it was a good distraction for Hinata through the night until he’d tired himself out and collapsed on the bed. The piles of textbooks have disappeared, as have the clothes strewn about the room.

 

Hinata closes his hands then opens them. Why was he still here? What was left? His mind sees red but his eyes see smooth, unblemished skin. Would it be this way forever? Push and pull, red and white, his mind warring within itself.  

 

_I wish I could’ve talked about it with Komaeda, before everything._

 

The thought is invasive and unwarranted and a flash of anger courses through him, yet it was his own. He doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to _think_ it.

 

So he gets up instead.

 

His stomach growls as he walks out the room and crosses the docks. The island is quieter than it usually is, though the sounds are no different—the waves still crash against the shore, the sea gulls still screech above him, the wind still breezes through the palm trees—a perfect day by all means.

 

The helicopter is still where it landed yesterday. Hinata guessed that Togami, Kirigiri, and Naegi would be lingering by Ibuki, and he’s not disappointed. Togami and Naegi are down the opposite end of the hallway of the hospital talking with the doctors, and Hinata sees a lithe shadow in the doorway of Ibuki’s room.

 

The shadow emerges, and Kirigiri raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Have you come to tell me about the time I’m wasting?”

 

Hinata blushes, feeling awkward. “Uh, no.”

 

“Really? Not even a little? I find myself…disappointed.”

 

Hinata shakes his head. “I wanted to talk about what to do next….Off the island.”

 

Kirigiri turns serious. “You want to leave?”

 

Hinata shrugs, glancing down at the floor. “I want to help where I can. I don’t think there’s anything left for me to help with here. Not permanently leave, of course, but—but maybe assignments, like you and Naegi and Togami do, anything to progress things forward. My friends are safe here, and the ones still under coma will be waking up any time soon. I’ve done my part.”

 

Kirigiri looks at him thoughtfully. “You really believe you’re done here?”

 

Hinata’s jaw tenses; a flicker of hesitation.

 

Kirigiri looks at her nails. “Do you have the file I gave you the day you woke up?”

 

Hinata blinks. “Yeah.”

 

“Hand it back to me tonight, once everyone has gone to bed. We’re leaving the island tomorrow morning. You can join us.”

 

Hinata is surprised, not expecting Kirigiri to agree with him so easily, let alone blindly allow him to leave the island. Her eyes turn to his sharply, and Hinata almost takes a step back at the menacing look behind them. “If you do not have the file, you will not be permitted on the helicopter. Is that understood?”

  
Hinata nods slowly.

 

Kirigiri lets out a quiet sigh, as if she hadn’t just scared the shit out of him. “I have to go now.”

 

Hinata still has one last question, one he can’t help but ask even as Kirigiri turns to leave. “You’re leaving island so soon? I thought…”

 

“There’s nothing left to do. We have to meet back at headquarters to discuss what transpired here. Komaeda has been issued a warning,” she smirks at the thought. “Threats don’t quite work on him. Or any of us, for that matter.” She looks up at him pensively. “Funny what humanity can adapt to.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

She turns away. “Komaeda and Souda will be handled. In the meantime, be good.”

 

Hinata scowls at her retreating back. ‘Be good’? What is he, five?

 

He looks at Ibuki’s open doorway. Nobody else seemed to be around, and Hinata hadn’t been prevented from entering the hospital…perhaps the ban is lifted.

 

He takes a deep breath and knocks twice on the open door. Ibuki’s sitting on the bed, staring listlessly at the wall. She turns her head at the knock, and a look of relief crosses her expression.

 

“Hinata,” she says. The usual pep and cheerfully melodic tone is missing, but she’s smiling at him ever so faintly, and it’s enough for now.

 

“How are you?” Hinata asks, stepping fully inside the room. He didn’t think she’d be awake already.

 

“Sit by me, if you want,” Ibuki rushes, looking around for a chair and failing. Hinata offers a small smile and sits at the edge of her bed. He gazes at her gently as she fidgets with the blankets, his eyes trailing down until he sees leather binds holding her wrists to the bed. She must notice the astonishment in his eyes, for she adds quickly, “They said they’ll take it off soon.”

 

Hinata considers her for a moment. “Will you try hurting yourself again, or…anyone else?”

 

Ibuki’s eyes widen. “No. Of course not.”

 

“Are you going to rip your hair out again?”

 

Ibuki’s throat bobs, her mouth pressed in a line. “…No. _No_ , I-Ibuki won’t.”

 

Hinata leans over and unbuckles the binding on her left hand, then reaches over to her right hand and unbuckles that one too. Ibuki rubs her wrists and looks at Hinata, both impressed and anxious.

 

“You’ll get in trouble for that, Hinata-kun,” she warns with a whisper. Hinata smiles again.

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m already in trouble, Ibuki.”

 

Ibuki nods. Hinata bites his lip. What was he doing here anyway? What could Hinata possibly say to make this better? He wasn’t even fully sure if he was right to unbind the restraints, but when he saw them on Ibuki he could not stop himself from freeing her, nor had he wanted to.

 

“You remember.”

 

Ibuki looks up. For a second she looks like she’ll start crying, but she doesn’t. “They’re all in here,” she points at her head with a steady finger. “More and more each hour. Some…some aren’t so bad.” She looks down at her lap. Hinata’s heart aches, searching desperately for something that could help her in any way, for words he wish someone could say to him.

 

“It’s enough though, isn’t it. The stuff you do remember, it’s…it’s enough to hurt.” Hinata knows he shouldn’t be so blunt but the words spill out themselves, as if having a mind of their own. Ibuki’s resolve starts wavering, her fingers twisting in the blanket without restraint.

 

“It’s—it’s _too much_ ,” she admits in a quiet whisper. The terror in her eyes frightens him; there is so much in them that flash by in mere moments; rage, pain, suffering, malice, envy, self-loathing, as if silently screaming for help. “It’s too much and I don’t know what to do with them. If I should do anything at all! Why did this happen to me, Hinata? I was—I was happy, I could handle it before, but—but seeing—the things I did—I—I—”

 

She falls silent. Hinata feels weak, his heart beating fast, and his own questions cloud his thoughts. He sees red and dark and chilling emptiness, the sound of knives slicing skin on their own free will, and the spatter of blood that covers the floor. Hinata chokes back the thoughts and forces his eyes closed, pushing the heels of his palms against the sides of his head. The memories fade slowly, and Hinata resurfaces from his thoughts as if coming up for air, exhaling shallowly.

 

Ibuki watches him, and Hinata can’t help but find the irony in two broken people trapped in their memories. Hinata laughs.

 

“What is it?” Ibuki asks hesitantly.

 

Hinata stops, the smile lingering. “You’re not alone,” Hinata replies. “But you can’t tell anybody about this. Can you do that for me?”

 

Ibuki nods, unsure of where Hinata was going this, but he knew she wouldn’t say a word.

 

“You’re not the only one, Ibuki; I remember too.”

 

**-:-**

 

He feels lighter. Ibuki is smiling again, more like herself this time, and she’s already working on tying her hair up the way she likes to. Hinata doesn’t say everything, and Ibuki doesn’t tell him everything either, but the small bits were enough to be a salve, to smooth the guilt and loneliness even if it was just for a few minutes. They are still weighted by their memories, and he knows Ibuki is hating every single moment that passes. Maybe it is something that won’t ever really go away. Maybe they’re meant to live with it forever.

 

A nurse comes in and glares at Hinata, telling him he has to leave now. Hinata waves goodbye and leaves the hospital feeling like the dark and pressing weight that’d been crushing him since yesterday is lifted. He breathes in and smells the salt from the sea. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Hinata heads back to the rooms.

 

He crosses paths with Souda on the bridge, and Souda jumps a bit before sprinting past him. Hinata narrows his eyes.

 

He heads to the cafeteria, unable to ignore the gnawing hunger in his stomach. It’s empty for once, and Hinata is relieved. After the talk with Ibuki, he was far too drained to muster any energy for another confrontation.

 

Opening the kitchen doors, his relief dwindles. Owari sits cross-legged on a counter, a box of protein bars in her lap. She’s shoving one whole in her mouth when Hinata sees her.

 

“Oh,” Hinata says, surprised. “Hey.”

 

“Mmph,” Owari mumbles, chewing vigorously. She swallows. “Finally out of your room?”

 

“Yeah,” Hinata replies, sheepish. “I was tired.”

 

“Well it’s only four hours ‘til dinner and I’m already starving,” Owari rips open another bar and tears into it greedily, licking her lips.

 

“Isn’t that, er, a bit much? Won’t you get a stomach ache?”

 

Owari throws back her head and guffaws, and Hinata takes a step back. He didn’t expect her to be so invigorated so soon after last night but then again, this was Owari after all.

 

“I’ve been slacking, Hinata, I have to really shape up! Nidai will be awake any minute and what will I have to show for it? Absolutely nothing! Right? NOTHING!”

 

“Alright, nothing!” Hinata agrees hastily, moving further away. “So you’re gonna get better by eating a lot of protein bars?”

 

Owari looks down at him disdainfully, then hops down from the counter. “You’ll never understand. Only Nidai did. _HYAAAA!”_ Hinata jumps out of the way when Owari suddenly bursts into a run, throwing open the door and straight out of the cafeteria, leaving a trail of dust behind her.

 

Hinata leaves the cafeteria not long after, looking around suspiciously. Everyone is acting…strange, and Hinata can’t place what happened in the last few hours to do it. When he reaches the cabins again he sees Sonia sitting with Kuzuryuu on the edge of the dock. They’re talking quietly amongst themselves and look up when they see Hinata approach.

 

Sonia smiles. “Glad to see you up, Hinata.”

 

“You too…what’re you guys up to?”

 

“Tch,” Kuzuryuu grunts, his arms crossed and looking away. Sonia ignores him and replies, “It is of no importance. Are you going to see Komaeda?”

 

Hinata stutters, not having expected that at all…“No? Why would you think I’m going to see Komaeda?”

 

“You two are close,” Sonia states as if it were obvious. Hinata resists the urge of tugging his necktie. “And yesterday couldn’t have been easy for you.”

 

“I’m fine,” Hinata says firmly, not liking the skeptical look on Sonia’s face. “I don’t feel like seeing him right now.”

 

Kuzuryuu mutters something under his breath. Hinata’s ire rises.

 

“What was that, Kuzuryuu?”

 

Kuzuryuu looks up at him mildly. “You won’t find him here anyway. They took him.”

 

Hinata’s eyebrows knit together. “Who did?”

 

Kuzuryuu shrugs, unaffected. “How the hell am I supposed to know? He’s been gone since last night’s meeting. I saw him with some people, some of them Naegi, Kirigiri, and stick-up-his-ass.”

 

Sonia slaps his knee. “Stop calling him that! He deserves respect after all he’s done.”

 

“He can kiss my ass,” Kuzuryuu spats.

 

Sonia glances at Hinata. “He’s just bitter Togami-san called Kuzuryuu an unsavory word regarding his height.”

 

Kuzuryuu glowers at Sonia, who doesn’t seem to care at all. Hinata frowns.

 

“So you guys are all…okay?” Hinata asks.

 

“Well,” Sonia shrugs. “After you stormed off, we all stayed on the beach a little longer. We realized there’s no real use being stuck on what happened—as always, we must move forward and prepare for the future. Nidai and Saionji are projected to wake up today, and then we’ll be drawing the next two names, and Ibuki’s recovery is all of utmost importance. As for Souda and Komaeda…”

 

“They can kiss my ass too,” Kuzuryuu says bluntly. “One’s a fucking weirdo and the other is crazy.”

 

“He’s _not_ crazy, he’s—you heard his intentions, they weren’t like the game—”

 

“What do we know? He’s always been like this, we don’t know shit about Komaeda and there’s no point trying to.”

 

“Kuzuryuu—”

 

Hinata interrupts her, “I’m glad you’ve sorted everything out. I gotta go,” he strides past her and straight to his room, closing the door firmly behind him and locking the door. He’s breathing in fast, his face turning red, and Hinata pounds his fist against the door. Damn it…damn it! Why is he letting himself get riled over this?

 

Komaeda’s smile flashes behind Hinata’s eyes and he growls. “Bastard,” he hisses, his hands balled into fists.

 

Occupied. He has to keep his mind occupied and not—not on eyes or smiles or the mouth the smile belongs to—Hinata goes to his bed and starts throwing the covers and pillows off, smoothing out the sheets and neatly making the bed, taking extra care to fluff the pillows too. He goes to his desk and wipes it down with the side of his hand, clearing any dust—he opens the drawer and halts completely.

 

Hinata’s notepad, one he hadn’t used in weeks, was turned to a fresh new page. And in handwriting he knew did not belong to him, a small flower was sketched onto the paper.

 

Like the bursting of a dam, thoughts flood inside Hinata’s head that he’d been avoiding since last night—his hands are shaking and he’s so fucking _angry_ and disappointed and yearning—this fucking yearning that has been there for weeks and weeks and weeks, that he felt inside the _game_ , that Komaeda had felt too and—Hinata is so angry at himself and he wants to tear the fucking paper to shreds and pretend none of it had happened—but then he wants to covet it, to fold it and tuck in the pocket above his heart.

 

He doesn’t care that they’re still outside. In fact, he strides right up to them, body shaking. Sonia jumps in surprise and shifts unconsciously closer to Kuzuryuu, looking warily at Hinata.

 

“Where did they take him.”

 

Kuzuryuu narrows his eyes. “What the h—”

 

“Where. Did. They. Take. Him.” Hinata’s teeth are clenched. His hand is curled around the notepad, and that’s wavering too.

 

“The hospital,” Sonia answers, rising to her feet. She looks at Hinata softly. “He’s in the hospital, an upper floor. I—I think they’re observing him again.”

 

Hinata turns away and starts walking. Nothing really registers at that moment—not the sun, the sky, the sea gulls that never shut up, the waves that crash against the shore like they’re taunting him—it’s as if his head is inside a bubble, his eyes seeing in tunnel vision.

 

He sees rather than feels himself open the door to the hospital and heads straight for the elevator. Kirigiri and the others are gone, as are most of the staff.

 

The elevator doors open and he punches the button, looking at the floor level impatiently. The moment the doors slide open he strides out, just shy of running, passing by each room until he sees a glass pane with a lone figure sitting on a bed, reading. Hinata reaches for the doorknob but it’s locked, and he wrestles with it to no avail. Komaeda looks up, his eyes in wide circles, and immediately jumps to his feet.

 

Komaeda walks slowly to the window, staring at Hinata curiously. Hinata refrains from kicking open the door and forces himself to take a breath. “Open the door.”

 

Komaeda tilts his head. He can’t hear.

 

“Open the door,” Hinata points at the door, enunciating slowly. He makes an effort of looking concerned. Komaeda hesitates, looking at him for what felt like an eternity.

 

A resigned look crosses Komaeda’s face. He reaches over and opens the door.

 

Hinata walks in and closes the door behind him firmly.

 

“How did you find me?” Komaeda asks, his voice soft.

 

Hinata throws the notepad at Komaeda’s chest. It falls to the ground, and Komaeda watches it fall in a delayed reaction. Slowly, he bends down to pick it up.

 

“I hate you,” Hinata says, his hands shaking. “I _hate_ you.”

 

Komaeda stares at his own drawing silently.

 

“I’m sorry,” Komaeda says quietly.

 

“I trusted—I trusted you! Why couldn’t you just _tell me,_ why did you—?” Hinata is incredulous. “Why did you do this to me? I—I defended you, I trusted you, I kissed you! Do you know how stupid I feel right now? That it was all nothing?”

 

“It wasn’t,” Komaeda says, dropping the pad onto the bed, his eyes boring into Hinata’s. “It was real, I promise, it was real, it is real.”

 

“How can I believe that?” Hinata shakes his head, his eyes wild. “I can’t believe a single word you say anymore. I don’t know what’s the truth. I thought we understood each other, I thought we…we…”

 

“It was something that had to be done,” Komaeda explains, his voice wavering.

 

“You could’ve told me,” Hinata says hoarsely, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. “Why didn’t you just tell me? You don’t trust me…after everything, you still don’t.”

 

“You’re wrong,” Komaeda says firmly. He hesitates for a second before taking a step toward Hinata. “It’s because I trust you that I didn’t want—”

 

Hinata stares at Komaeda. “What? Didn’t want _what?”_

Komaeda lowers his gaze, biting his lip.

 

Hinata growls in frustration and Komaeda tries reaching for Hinata’s arm, but Hinata jerks his arm away and moves far from Komaeda. He doesn’t miss the look of hurt on Komaeda’s face.

 

“Do you honestly believe what you did was right?” Hinata asks Komaeda. He’s so tired now. Why did he even come here? What had he expected from this?

 

“I…believe it was necessary.” Komaeda’s eyes don’t leave Hinata’s. “I’m sorry for the way it had to be done, but it _did_ have to be done. This island is full of lies. Something had to change, be the catalyst.”

 

“And you decided to be just that,” Hinata replies sarcastically. Hinata shakes his head and looks at Komaeda. “ _You could have told me_.”

 

“You would’ve helped me?” Komaeda asks him, raising an eyebrow. “You would’ve carried the plan out with me? Lied to everyone on the beach about the party?”

 

“Maybe, if you had told me,” Hinata scowls, but sounds unconvinced even to himself.

 

“You’re a terrible liar, Hinata,” Komaeda smiles, looking at Hinata almost fondly. “I always liked that about you. You carry your emotions for everyone to see…you feel so strongly, with every fiber of your being.”

 

Hinata walks towards him slowly, peering at him with more calm than he felt. “You must’ve known then,” he says quietly. “What this would do to me. You did it anyway.” Hinata’s expression changes, looking at Komaeda as if he no longer recognized him. “You let me kiss you.”

 

“I wanted to kiss you,” Komaeda says, and the words are honest, true. “I wanted to tell you. For a long time.”

 

Hinata isn’t sure he’s talking about the incident anymore. The nervousness is creeping up in his abdomen again, grabbing his heart like a vice.

 

“My god,” Hinata breathes. “You…you really don’t get how it works.”

 

Komaeda frowns. Hinata shakes his head again, laughter bubbling in his throat. “God, this is stupid. This is so stupid.”

 

Hinata sits on the bed. Komaeda stays standing, swaying a little on his feet. Enough time passes until Komaeda takes a tentative step forward, then another, another, until he sits hesitantly next to Hinata.

 

“The thing about having friends,” Hinata starts, “about not being alone anymore…is having the option of sharing. Let’s say what you did was right, and needed to be done.” Komaeda nods. “You could’ve told me. I would’ve talked about it with you. Given advice, stuff like that. We could’ve brought it up together to everyone else, helped make a device together…you could’ve trusted me to help you. Or, you could’ve trusted me to keep your secrets.”

 

“But I do—”

 

“I know you do, but you have no idea how it works. You never thought once that you could do this with me, could talk to me. You did what you always do and have done for the better part of your life—you went along with it alone.”

 

“I...” Komaeda stares at his knees. “I didn’t…want…you to be involved, in case there was a chance it went wrong.”

 

Hinata pauses. Komaeda’s not meeting his eyes.

 

“You didn’t want me to get blamed?”

 

Komaeda looks up at him solemnly. Hinata is speechless. “Don’t…don’t you understand? That’s what friendship _is_. Good or bad, we’re in it together. Nothing can ever…ever work out for us if we can’t rely on each other. Do you get it? We can’t…be anything if you won’t include me. Ibuki might’ve even volunteered, you don’t know. You never tried. You just assumed everything and made it that much harder.”

 

“This is who I am, Hinata,” says Komaeda. “This is what I know. And it _works_. I…don’t…know how to do it any other way.”

 

“Do you want to? If I showed you?”

 

Komaeda gazes at him, his eyes a storm of apprehension and hope. “I…could try. For you.”

 

Something blooms in Hinata’s chest and Hinata feels a smile tug at his lips, the first since he saw Ibuki hours ago.

 

“If you pull this shit again, I will kick your ass,” Hinata says bluntly. Komaeda smiles.

 

“Hmm.”

 

Hinata glances around the room, suddenly feeling awkward. “So…how long are you gonna be in here? What’re they keeping you for?”

 

Komaeda shrugs easily. “The usual. Assessing my psyche again, this time more rigorously, I’m sure. The fools!”

 

Hinata smiles faintly. Komaeda’s staring at him intently, and Hinata quirks a brow.

 

“What is it?”

 

Komaeda looks flustered, but holds his gaze. “Nothing.”

 

Hinata crosses his arms, staring down Komaeda until he wavers.

 

“It’s…are you still angry, then?”

 

Hinata considers this seriously. “No…not angry.”

 

Komaeda smiles faintly. It slips just as quickly. “Then…we…” he looks like he’s going to burst with what he wants to say, his face turning red. He loses the battle, and looks away. “Nevermind.”

 

Hinata is starting to get a sense of this now, the pieces of Komaeda he never understood starting to come together, slowly but progressively…he understands him better than he ever did, even in the game. He understands what this means, this part of Komaeda and the nature he is partial to, that he cannot help and probably would take years of coaxing to let out.

 

Hinata reaches over and tilts his chin up. “Yeah.” And against his better judgment, against all the exhaustion and the frayed and confused feelings he still had, he kissed Komaeda.

 

Hinata meant for it to be just a small peck, an insurance for what could be in the future, but when he starts leaning away Komaeda pushes forward and presses his hands against either side of Hinata’s face, not letting him go. There is something desperate and guilt-ridden in Komaeda’s kiss, in the haste, as if at any moment Hinata will change his mind and hate him again and leave him by himself. Hinata leans into Komaeda, cupping his jaw gently and kissed with tenderness and reassurance, each swipe of his lips against Komaeada’s a soft embrace, an increment of forgiveness that Komaeda needed at the moment.

 

Komaeda makes a small noise and the deep noise reverberates into Hinata’s mouth, sending a thrill down Hinata’s spine. The tenderness fades quickly and they’re both kissing each other hard, wanting to get closer, tiny sparks of pleasure every time their lips move against each other.

 

“Hey—oh!”

 

Komaeda and Hinata spring apart and turn to the door.

 

“Sonia,” Hinata rises quickly to his feet, fighting to catch his breath. Sonia’s expression is frozen, the only indication of shock being her widened eyes. “Um…”

 

Sonia blinks. “The—the others! Nidai and Saionji are awake. I came to get you.” She looks past Hinata’s shoulder at Komaeda. “You too, Komaeda.”

 

Komaeda nods, still a little half-dazed. Sonia breathes in sharply and whirls around abruptly, striding down the hallway.

 

They don’t say a word as they head down to the first floor. Nidai and Saionji are in the same room, and as they enter Hinata sees the usual crowd forming around them. Owari is by Nidai and laughing so freely and happily that Hinata can’t help but smile too. Sonia is by Saionji, giving her some words of comfort—she’s confused and weary and looks ready to weep, overwhelmed. Kuzuryuu and Souda are standing somewhere in the middle, both with grins, and Ibuki is in a wheelchair between the beds with a massive smile.

 

And Hinata and Komaeda are behind everyone else, gazing at the simple joy spread before them, feeling content.

 

**-:-**

 

The night is dark, the island quieter than it has been for a while. Exhaustion, perhaps.

 

Kirigiri’s legs are crossed with a book in her lap. She glances at the time.

 

Smiling, she puts down the book and goes to bed.

 

**-:-**

On the other side of the island, Hinata enters Komaeda’s hospital room. Komaeda is more than shocked to see him, but his eyes flicker down at Hinata’s hands.

 

Closing the door behind him, Hinata holds the file firmly. “I haven’t been honest either, Komaeda. I can’t expect the same from you if I can’t demonstrate it too.”

 

Hinata holds the file out, and Komaeda stares at it without taking it. “What is it?”

 

“It’s me,” Hinata says, feeling nervous. “You asked me why my eyes are red. This is why.”

 

Komaeda looks at Hinata in shock. Slowly he takes the folder and sets it down on his lap. “Hinata…”

 

“Just,” Hinata fidgets, feeling both hopeless and hopeful, “just remember me as I am now, okay? I’m…I’m the worst, in there.”

 

Komaeda says nothing. Hinata opens the door, backing out slowly. “Goodnight, Komaeda.”

 

“Goodnight…Hinata.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me! (smiles)
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for the feedback on the last chapter! You guys are incredible!! I truly hope you like this one, it was really really amazing to write and man oh man, the things that are coming up... 
> 
> I have to admit that this week's reveals on the new game and the new anime coming up for this series really, really inspired me!! I haven't been able to stop thinking about what's in store for the dr1/dr2 characters in the anime...a part of me vainly hopes it starts the way I've headcanoned it to be, with the way they wake up at least! But we'll have to wait and see for that. And the play scenes...gosh.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this update! I never imagined anyone reading this story let alone caring about it as much as you all do! I'm constantly blown away by the support this fic gets. Each comment just makes my day....truly, you are the best readers and most fun to talk to! 
> 
> I'll be reediting this by the end of the day, so forgive me for mistakes! I just want you guys to get the chance to read this ASAP. I should also remind everyone that this is a hopeful fic and I find no reason in stretching arguments or tension more than necessary. I also like the idea of hinata making out with komaeda. I'm not sorry.
> 
> Until next time! xx


	10. Judgment

**Chapter 10: Judgment**

**-:-**

It’s dark. The faint sound of something dripping, like water from a closed faucet, echoes in the room.

 

Like a velveteen curtain the darkness parts, and crimson eyes flash in the shadow.

 

“ _Do you remember now?_ ”

**-:-**

Sonia’s fingers are unsteady as she stares at the slip of paper. Her lips pressed in a thin line, she says softly, “Mikan Tsumiki.”

 

Owari, Sonia, Souda, Kuzuryuu, and Hinata are standing in the cafeteria; the sun had only just risen when they were summoned to select the next classmates for surgery. The rest of their small group were still in the hospital.

 

“We can’t,” Kuzuryuu shakes his head furiously. “ _No_.”

 

“We…” Sonia almost protests but the words die in her throat as she, too, considers their predicament. “We wrote the name, didn’t we? To some extent, we had to have known this day would come.”

 

“We weren’t thinking clearly,” Souda scowls angrily. “How can we bring her back? She actually _meant_ what she did in the game! She remembered.” At their silence, Souda rails on, “She killed Ibuki, she killed Saionji who only just woke up! How are we even arguing about this?”

 

Sonia worries her lower lip. “You’re right. But I don’t know what should be done.”

 

“Throw out the name,” Kuzuryuu says vehemently.

 

Owari narrows her eyes. “We can’t do that.”

 

“Yes we can. I’ll do it right now,” Kuzuryuu strides to where Sonia stands but Owari is quicker and snatches it from her. Kuzuryuu growls loudly when she holds it up in the air beyond his reach.

 

“Hand it over!” Kuzuryuu yells as he tries to swipe for the paper, and Owari cackles at his attempts.

 

“Please,” Sonia holds her hands up between them. “We have to think rationally about this, about what must be done. This is not the time to be angry with each other.”

 

“We know what has to be done,” says Souda plainly. “Tsumiki can’t be allowed with the rest of us. That’s all there is to it.”

 

“So we just…leave her?” Sonia says doubtfully. “Keep her on the ventilator?”

 

“No,” Souda replies quietly. “Not even that.”

 

“…Kill her?” Owari’s eyes widen with disbelief, her hand with the paper lowering, thought Kuzuryuu didn’t try to take it. “Did everyone wake up homicidal today? What the hell!”

 

“It wouldn’t be like that,” says Kuzuryuu calmly. “Law enforcement did it all the time, didn’t they? Those who’ve committed violent crime and murder were sentenced to death themselves. We’d be doing a service to society.” Kuzuryuu’s expression darkened. “Tsumiki remembered while in the game and then murdered Saionji and Ibuki. You want someone like that around us again? She’ll want to continue what Junko started! She won’t give up until her hands have all our blood on them.”

 

“Then we leave her,” Owari says firmly. “We’re not lawmakers and definitely don’t got any right to judge who gets to live or die anymore. We’ll leave this up to Naegi and the others, okay?”

 

An uncomfortable silence passes. “So…tell Naegi first?” Sonia asks carefully. At their halfhearted responses, Sonia inhales deeply and nods. “The next name, then.” Fishing her hand inside the jar, Sonia picks one up from the top and unfurls the slip of paper.

 

A slight smile touches her lips. “Tanaka Gundam.”

 

**-:-**

He’s not seen Komaeda since last night, and it’s making Hinata anxious. He can’t seem to stop moving; he paces down the docks and to the cafeteria, he visits Nidai and Saionji despite their slumber, and even accepts a protein shake lesson from Owari—which honestly he doesn’t want to do ever again.

 

He’s not seen Komaeda and it’s driving Hinata slightly stir-crazy; more than once Hinata considers walking to the hospital but always stops himself. Only once had he walked halfway to the hospital before promptly turning back around, mentally kicking himself.

 

Part of him thinks perhaps seeing Komaeda in the hospital wouldn’t be a bad idea—he isn’t _actually_ ill, and Hinata is certain Togami had put him there just to annoy Komaeda, for they all knew nothing would come from another evaluation. Hinata could easily take the elevator and walk down the hall and tap on the glass, wait for Komaeda to open the door, and…

 

No. No, he shouldn’t. He _won’t_.

 

But the wait is agony, and Hinata is starting to regret giving the file to him at all. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was too soon, a snap judgment in the heat of the moment…Hinata bites his thumbnail and curls in on himself on his bed. His heart thumps unnaturally in that anxious, worried pang that he’d get before taking exams. He groans loudly.

 

In truth, it is his own cowardice that made Hinata hand over the file to Komaeda…he could have done it differently, could have sat with him and shared his past, in a way less impersonal, yet…when he considered it, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Hinata is brave in some ways but pathetic in even more ways, if his file wasn’t proof enough of that…and having to watch Komaeda’s face when telling him that he is Izuru Kamukura would destroy whatever shred of self-awareness Hinata managed to salvage after the game.

 

As if suddenly stifled, Hinata springs up from his bed and leaves the room. He’s only just closed the door when he nearly crashes into Sonia.

 

“Oh!”

 

Hinata stumbles and Sonia’s hand darts out to steady him, her grip strong—stronger than he judged it could be.

 

“Sorry,” Hinata mutters.

 

“It’s nothing,” Sonia says lightly. The tension is thick enough to cut and serve on a platter. Hinata doesn’t know where to look or what to say, and his fingers itch to yank on his necktie.

 

“I—I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Hinata starts.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah, I, uh…it’s, I mean,” Hinata chuckles half-heartedly, “you know?”

 

“No,” Sonia admits, rubbing her arm uncomfortably.

 

Hinata pales. “Sorry, I’m not making sense. I just wanted—about when you walked in and saw…me and Komaeda…”

 

Sonia stares at him, her expression revealing nothing. Hinata curses inwardly. Damn diplomats…

 

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” Hinata says.

 

“What would be the wrong impression?”

 

“Well, that...”

 

Sonia tilts her head. Hinata pinches the bridge of his nose, marveling at how he’s utterly failing. “If you are worried I will tell someone,” Sonia starts, and Hinata’s eyes lurch up. “It is not my place to speak gossip.”

 

Hinata exhales slowly. “Thanks.”

 

“I should remind you that apart from the hospital staff, we are a small group on an island,” Sonia stares at him firmly, making Hinata’s muscles tense. “Secrets do not remain so for long. And if you are unsure of what the nature of your correspondence with Nagito Komaeda is, it will be known as well.”

 

Hinata blinks, speechless. Sonia offers a small smile. “Now, I had come for a reason. We’re having a meeting in ten minutes and I was asked to find you.”

 

“A meeting about what?” Hinata frowns. Sonia makes to reply but she pauses, turning her head. Hinata looks past her shoulder, hearing the approach of footsteps. To his surprise, he sees Ibuki walking down the docks.

 

“Ibuki?” Hinata runs forward and meets her halfway. She offers a bright smile.

 

“They let Ibuki go back to her room,” she tells them, rubbing her arm. “I am much better now.”

 

“I’m glad. We’re glad,” Hinata glances at Sonia, and she nods enthusiastically. “You should probably go rest—”

 

But Ibuki cuts him off right there, shaking her head vigorously. “I’m tired of resting! I’ve rested for days. What are you two gonna do—maybe I can do that?”

 

“We’re not—” Hinata begins.

 

“Actually we were just heading to the cafeteria,” Sonia cuts him off, smiling genially. “It would be wonderful if you would come—it concerns all of us.”

 

“Alright! Finally something to get my bones pumping! Let’s go!”

 

Hinata side-eyes Sonia but she patently refuses to acknowledge it, falling in step with Ibuki and leaving Hinata to walk behind them. He wants to ask what this meeting could be about and why she was adamant on bringing Ibuki, but he holds his tongue. If it was anything like their last meeting he wasn’t so sure it would be good for Ibuki, but…then again, withholding information was part of the problem on this island, wasn’t it? And Sonia’s words drift back in his mind… _Secrets do no remain so for long._

He doesn’t even want to think about the other thing she’d said about Komaeda.

 

They enter the cafeteria and everyone else is already there; Kuzuryuu and Owari are sitting across from each other, the latter shooting dark looks at Owari, who, for the most part, was too absorbed in her twenty pound dumbbell to notice. Souda sits far from the rest, arms folded over his chest and a cap covering his eyes. He glances up when he sees Ibuki and jumps from his seat.

 

“The hell! Did you guys drag her from the hospital bed?”

 

“She was already released,” Sonia says coldly, her chin raised. The icy tone in her voice sent a chill down even Hinata’s spine—not often did she unleash the full extent of her annoyance, and when she did Hinata is glad it was never directed at him.

 

But it is not just Sonia who shoots cold glances at Souda; nobody looks directly at him, and if they do it is not to share a kind look. Hinata sighs inwardly. He couldn’t blame them, though…

 

“Nidai and Saionji are still asleep, and Komaeda is in the hospital as well, so it will only be us,” Sonia explains, glancing at all of them. “It’s time we discuss our current situation.”

 

For a moment, there is silence. Kuzuryuu is clenching and unclenching his fists, staring at the floor.

 

“We may as well start with Ibuki,” Sonia says.

 

Ibuki looks surprised, not expecting to have been mentioned. “Start with what?”

 

“With what happened to you,” Kuzuryuu replies, looking up from the floor. “You were shocked on purpose by Komaeda. He set it all up.”

 

Ibuki’s bewilderment is almost too sad to see, and Hinata swallows thickly. Never did she imagine someone would try to hurt her from the group that survived, and it’s written clear in her eyes that despite whatever she might’ve thought of Komaeda, she never imagined he’d target her now. Her lower lip trembles a bit but she bites it, muttering a quiet, “Why me?”

 

Hinata is the one to speak now. He knows he must. “He thought you could handle it. He thought that out of all of us…you were the strongest.”

 

Ibuki looks away. Sonia pats her back gently, turning back to the group. “This brings us to our most pressing matter—our ability to regain our memories.” Sonia looks to Ibuki. “Komaeda figured out that we can get our memories back. Souda knew it was possible and hid it from us. As admirable as his intentions were, it was not his decision to make.” Sonia gathers her last shred of courage and inhales deeply. “I think it’s time to discuss whether we…if any of us would want our memories back.”

 

Souda makes a choked sound of disbelief. “Are you insane? Why the hell would you want to— _why?_ ”

 

“Why?” Kuzuryuu spits. “Why lie to ourselves that we weren’t cold-blooded murderers? You took our choice away—what if want to know? What if we deserve to know and it could help us understand?”

 

“So that you’ll fall back into despair?” Souda shouts. “That’s what you want, you shithead? That’s what you want?”

 

“Ibuki didn’t fall back into despair,” Owari says quietly, setting the dumbbell down gently. “She’s right in front of us, just like she was before.”

 

Ibuki presses her lips together but says nothing. Her eyes dart to Hinata and he freezes. He’s praying she doesn’t say anything, praying she doesn’t bring up that fact that he remembers too. But she stays silent, staring distantly at her lap.

 

“We can’t do anything right now anyway,” Souda says gruffly, his eyes hidden by his cap. “So there’s no point discussing it.”

 

“No point? This—this is setting a precedent for the rest of the people waking up, asshole!” Kuzuryuu hisses.

 

“And it should have stayed a secret!” Souda looks at them incredulously. “Are we forgetting who’s waking up this week? _Fucking Tsumiki!_ She tried to kill us, actually kill us! And she succeeded! She remembered, just a little bit she remembered, and she turned against us. Now she’ll know she has the chance to remember everything and you think she won’t do whatever it takes to get those memories back?” He clicks his teeth, shaking his head. “The real question we should be asking is what the _fuck_ do we do when she wakes up?”

 

“We agreed it would be up to Naegi and—” Sonia starts, her voice shaking.

 

“Do you honestly think they have any control?” Souda growls. It’s the first time he’s shown true anger at Sonia, and throws even her off. He laughs bitterly. “They tried rehabilitating us in that goddamn game, and what happened? A corrupted file changed the entire system and put half of us in a coma. What theyv’e been doing these last few months is damage control. They don’t have a fucking clue what they’re doing. _They_ didn’t save our asses at the very end—we saved ourselves. Together.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” asks Hinata bluntly.

 

“I’m saying it’s time we stop pussyfooting and waiting on orders from those assholes. We want to get shit done? We want to make a difference on this island? We work it out amongst ourselves. And if the topic is getting our memories back, it’s a hard _no_ from me.”

 

“You’ve gone on a tangent, Souda. The fact remains is you lied to us,” Sonia says, her voice hard. “You didn’t discuss the matter and took our _choice_ away. You used your intellect—”

 

“To protect us,” Ibuki says quietly. “He did it to protect us.”

 

They stare at her in shock, and Ibuki continues. “Because that’s what friends do for each other.” Ibuki looks at them, all traces of humor or confusion gone. “How many of you actually have your memories back? How many?” Hinata looks away as his friends shift uncomfortably. “So how can you possibly know what it would be like? Do you think it was easy for me? Didn’t Komaeda take the choice away from me?” Her eyes harden. “I will not sit here listen to you berate Souda. He is the _only_ one to have protected us since we woke on this island. Have your forgotten that he solved how to wake our friends up? Yes Souda lied,” Ibuki glances at Souda, her gaze soft. “As a parent lies to their child to reassure everything will be alright. Your anger with him ends today.”

 

Souda is bright pink when Hinata glances at him, his hands trembling just slightly. Something shifts in him, then, a look of determination in his eye. He stands, eyes on Ibuki the whole time, and holds his hand out. She stares at it for a second before gently putting her hand in his.

 

“Do whatever the hell you guys want about this memory shit,” Souda says behind him as they head for the exit. “You know where we stand.”

 

And with that, they were gone.

 

They can only watch in shock as the doors slam behind them. “Of all the shit I expected to happen,” Kuzuryuu breaks the silence. “That was not it.”

 

“You could say that again,” Owari mutters. She reaches in her pocket and draws out a protein bar, tearing it open and chomping on it thoughtfully.

 

They jump when the door opens again. In the doorway, casting a shadowed silhouette against the bright cafeteria lights, is Komaeda.

 

“I wondered where everyone was!” he smiles cheerily. He’s in his green jumper again, all traces of his stay at the hospital gone.

 

Hinata doesn’t know why he stands but he does, shooting straight up from his seat and stumbling a little. “Komaeda,” he stammers. Hinata doesn’t notice Sonia watching him intently. “They let you out?”

 

“Mm,” he nods. “It seems they could not find anything wrong with me.”

 

“Tch,” Kuzuryuu huffs. “They didn’t look hard enough."

 

Komaeda smiles faintly. The air is uncomfortable again, but the departing words from Ibuki and Souda hang in between them. The exhaustion was setting in and Hinata could tell that being angry with Komaeda was simply too tiring of a task. Instead, Sonia offers him a seat.

 

“We were just discussing what to do with this new memory situation,” Sonia explains to him.

 

Komaeda nods, listening intently to Sonia. His eyes never stray from her, and Hinata can’t help but stare at Komaeda hoping to meet his eye.

 

“Yeah Komaeda,” Owari speaks up, brushing the crumbs from her fingers. “You’re the genius who figured this whole memory thing out. Why not do a little explaining.”

 

Komaeda smiles, but behind it Hinata can see traces of nerves. “My actions with Ibuki were to uncover a truth, and to return a choice to you,” he says quietly. “It’s not for me to decide what to do next. You can now choose to remember…or not.”

 

“And what do you choose, Komaeda?” Kuzuryuu asks.

 

Komaeda’s face gives away nothing when he replies. “I’ll tell you when I decide.”

 

His eyes turn to Hinata. And Hinata, hating himself for it, has to look away, his heart thundering in his chest.

 

**-:-**

He does not speak again, nor do they see him at dinner. Hinata’s head hurts from the worry and the anxiety of Komaeda’s reaction. Why didn’t he say anything to him yet? Had he even read through it by now? Hinata shakes his head. Komaeda would’ve been far too curious to leave the file for another day…

 

Hinata’s feet upturn the sand and he hears the waves crashing gently along the beach, the water glistening against the stars filled in the sky. He pauses when a second sound joins the crash of the waves, his feet slowing. Though the beach was lit with torches all along the coast, he had to squint to make out anything that was even a little beyond their scope.

 

 _I must be going crazy_ , Hinata shakes his head, and restarts his trek when he hears the sound again, this time closer. Hinata can pinpoint it now, and jogs lightly to it. Was someone getting attacked again? No, it couldn’t—it didn’t even sound like an attack, let alone a cry of alarm—

 

He stops abruptly when he sees two figures swathed in shadows by the posts of the bridge leading to another part of the island. They’re standing very close to each other, seeming to be discussing something beyond Hinata’s ability to overhear…his eyes widen when he realizes it is Ibuki and Souda.

 

Souda tucks a colorful strand of hair behind her ear, and Ibuki rests her hands on his shoulders.

 

Hinata turns around and leaves when they kiss.

 

So it is true…Hinata shakes his head. This is definitely _not_ his business…

 

The stress and the myriad of questions leave Hinata’s bones lethargic as he trudges to his cabin. When he flips the light switch on, he jumps when he sees Komaeda sitting on his bed.

 

“Shit, Komaeda,” Hinata curses, exhaling loudly and closing the door behind him. He glances at the bed, which has been neatly made. “How long have you been here?”

 

Komaeda tilts his head, actually thinking about it. “Since dinner, I think,” he replies.

 

Hinata’s eyes catch the file sitting on his knees. “You read it, then.”

 

“I did.”

 

Hinata swallows thickly, blood rushing to his head and pounding behind his ears. This was it…he wishes now that this was not happening, and that he could spin around and slam the door behind him and hold this off for another day…coward Hinata would be saved for a while.

 

But he does not run—he reaches behind and locks the door.

 

“So…” Hinata begins. “Now you know the truth.”

 

“I do.”

 

The blank expression is killing Hinata. He wants to shake Komaeda by the shoulders just to get rid of it for a second.

 

“Damn it, don’t make me say it,” Hinata says agitatedly. “I can’t wait anymore, just—what now? What—do you think of me—now?”

 

Komaeda stands. He walks to Hinata deliberately, slowly. His hand lifts up to trace his fingers down Hinata’s arm, stopping at his wrist. His touch is cold. Familiar.

 

“I think,” he says quietly, “it’s all fairly stupid.”

 

Hinata stills. “…How is it stupid?”

 

“Well,” Komaeda shrugs, smiling. “I mean, this program you—sorry, Izuru Kamukura—was initiated for, why you?”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Yes, a—what did the file say?—a reserve. A reserve student selected…” Komaeda’s eyes are filled with mirth. “I’m sorry, I just don’t believe it.”

 

Hinata’s heart skips a beat. Of all the things…of everything he had imagined, the terrible scenarios that Komaeda could have enacted, never did Hinata think complete and utter rejection would be one of them.

 

Hinata scowls. “You better believe it. It’s true.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it is.”

 

Hinata’s anger flares. “Komaeda. This is real. That file is who I was. I was—I was a nobody at Hope’s Peak who fought to get experimented on. To become Izuru—to become _me,_ as I am today. My eyes lost their pigmentation. My hair grow four inches every morning, I have to cut it off before I leave the cabin _every single day._ My cell growth is accelerated but regulated, they— _shit,_ Komaeda,” Hinata shakes his head violently. “I didn’t make this up.”

 

“I think you altered yourself during the Tragedy like many of us did,” Komaeda says blankly, all traces of humor lost. “We all did. I remember that. I think the Future Foundation created a falsified story and gave you that file to make you bend to their will—”

 

“No, no, NO!” Hinata yells, and he slams his fist against the wall. “Nobody is tricking me! I know, _I know_ this is real! Komaeda.” Hinata takes him by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “I know who I am. I am getting back my memories every. Single. Day. Izuru is me, he is inside me. I am him. I did this to myself. I’m the piece of shit that put the monokuma virus in the game. I am the piece of shit that made everything hell. Sonia, Kuzuryuu, Owari, Souda, they all already know. This is real, and you’re going to have to accept it.”

 

Komaeda stiffens in Hinata’s grip. A shadow falls over his eyes, and he looks at Hinata with something akin to disbelief.

 

He breaks from Hinata’s grasp, stepping back. Hinata’s panting, and dread fills him at Komaeda’s silence.

 

Suddenly Komaeda’s whole body shudders, staggering back until the back of his knees hit the bed. He’s clutching his head and Hinata lurches forward, his hands pushing Komaeda’s writhing limbs down.

 

“Komaeda! Shit!” Hinata’s eyes go wide and he holds back his hands when Komaeda throws them off, panic setting inside him. “What—what’s happening, are you okay? SHIT!”

 

Komaeda goes limp. His hand that had been clutching his scalp falls away. Hinata shifts when Komaeda sits up slowly, looking at himself as if seeing him for the first time.

 

Something inside Hinata whispers to him. The cold look in Komaeda is familiar…the twist to his lips is one he’s seen before…

 

 _“Do you remember me now?_ ” _Izuru asks._

 

The pieces fall together.

 

“You remember,” Hinata breathes. “Everything.”

 

Komaeda smiles slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while and I'm sorry for the wait! This chapter isn't as long or exploratory as I'd like it to be but, that's because the next chapter is going to be a really big one. Kind of flashback big.
> 
> Ironically, the DR3 info was released this week where, I THINK, prequel stuff will be happening? IDK but I've pretty much lost a lot of hope for the future of our sdr2 characters so I'll just have to continue my work and headcanons with this fic.
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for your incredible feedback and support! You are all literally, LIT-TRALLY amazing. I hope you enjoyed this one and expected Very Big Things next chapter because...it's been leading up to this. 
> 
> I hope by the by you may have noticed an ongoing occurrence in each chapter, with respect to Hinata's own memory recovery and his other personality. It will be important.
> 
> Thank you again and PLEASE let me know what you thought! Also, what're your thoughts on DR3? 
> 
> Until chapter 11 xxx


	11. School of Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "-:-" indicates a scene change.  
> ".:." indicates a perspective change.

**Chapter 11: School of Despair**

 

 

Pekoyama—Kuzuryuu—Nevermind—Ibuki—Tanaka—Akane. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right.

 

They stand in an open hall. The noise is loud, escalating. He closes his eyes and drowns in it, letting it wrap around him and through him and inside him and—

 

A hush falls over them as a loud, clattering sound of heels resounds in the entrance hall. A woman in a white suit stands before them, her back to the set of double doors that separates them from beyond the hall of the school. He appraises her, taking in the round face and gentle smile, almost clinical.

 

“Welcome,” she says quietly. The hall is in utter silence.

 

Her eyes travel across them slowly. “Beyond these doors is the start of a new life. For the next few years, your particular skill set will be cultivated in a work-intensive but calibrated curriculum.” Behind them, the doors to the entrance hall suddenly open. Men in uniform wheel in several carts with laminated boxes atop them, and the crowd of students part to let them through. They stop on either side of the woman.

 

The woman in white gestures to the boxes with a delicately manicured hand. “In these boxes lies your student identification cards—they will act as your schedule, your map to the school, and the key to your room.” Her smile widens. “You will come one at a time and retrieve your card. You will then enter the dining hall for breakfast, and at nine you will attend your first lesson. The map on your card will show you to your rooms where your uniforms have already been prepared. The guidelines to your expected attire are listed in the student handbook section.”

 

They form a line, and one by one they receive their cards. He stops before the woman, and she bares her teeth in a mockery of a grin.

 

“Name?”

 

He smiles pleasantly. “Nagito Komaeda.”

 

**-:-**

Hanamura—Hifumi—Koizumi—Oogami.

 

“Right,” he breathes, staring at the sky. “Right, right, right…”

 

He twists a blade of grass between his fingers, tugging but not breaking the stem. A gust of wind ghosts over him as he stares at the sky, pearlescent clouds against a brilliant blue atmosphere. His heart swells, and a smile spreads thinly on his lips as he sighs, “Togami. Tsumiki. Kirigiri…” his eyes wander to end of the courtyard, catching a flicker of movement. His eyes narrow.

 

The names fall away as Komaeda fixates on him. The boy sits alone beside a tree, cherry blossom petals falling around him like soft, pink rain. He holds a book in his lap, head bent, as if distanced from the rest of the students—for there _are_ many students in the courtyard today. Komaeda tilts his head and catalogues his face. Dozens of names burst in his mind but none of them quite match.

 

He’s standing and walking without really being aware of the walking and the standing, until his feet stop short from the boy, casting a looming shadow over his book.

 

The boy glances up at him.

 

“Yeah?”

 

His voice is husky, almost a croak.

 

“I don’t know you,” Komaeda says bluntly. He appraises him, making the boy shift uneasily. Names whisper in his mind, but he swats them aside. “Should I?”

 

The boy glares up at him, squinting against the sunlight. “No.” He turns back to his book but Komaeda stays where he is. Still staring…the boy glances back up. “ _What?_ ” he snaps irritatedly.

 

Komaeda blinks slowly. _Hmm…_ “You’re not pretending,” Komaeda notes. “Maybe I should know you. I only memorized the interesting ones, you see. But they are not so interesting, as it happens—foolish, foolish me, the discourtesy…”

 

The boy scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“May I sit?”

 

“No.”

 

“What’s your talent?”

 

“I’m not—” the boy looks at him incredulously, “ _—not_ answering anything if I don’t have to.”

 

“My mistake. Ah, of course you wouldn’t want to divulge so easily, with a coveted talent,” Komaeda laughs sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair. “My talent is terrible, not even a talent—but they begged me to come, and who am I to refuse a good begging…”

 

The boy looks startled and glances away. Komaeda notes the strangeness of his eyes—not quite green, not quite pale. He finds himself staring at their shift and movement, the way they dart up to his face before looking away. They always seem to draw back to Komaeda. _Oh,_ he thinks strangely. _That’s new._

 

He’s so distracted by the boy’s eyes that he almost misses the question. “Why would Hope’s Peak beg?”

 

“Why wouldn’t they? Without us, the school is nothing,” Komaeda replies smartly, watching a blossom drift lazily from the tree and land on the boy’s shoulder. He curls his fingers into his palms. “I suppose even a useless talent is worth the study. My worthlessness seems to astound many geniuses.”

 

“Wow.” The boy raises an eyebrow, finally seeming to acclimate to Komaeda’s presence—his shoulders drop a bit and his vice-like grip on his book— _Introduction to Game Theory_ —loosens. “You’re weird.”

 

Komaeda laughs.

 

The boy smiles a little, and Komaeda’s smile shrinks. “How is this?” Komaeda steps closer. “You learn my talent, and I guess your name.”

 

The boy stills, staring at Komaeda unblinkingly. “What’s in it for you?”

 

Komaeda grins. “Why, you have to tell me your talent. Your fruition of hope! The reason you sit in this courtyard in this school!”

 

The boy’s expression changes inexplicably, a shutter falling over his eyes as he looks back down at his book. “You’re meddling too much,” he mutters. “Go bother someone else, alright?”

 

“Oh come now!” Komaeda says cheerfully. “What harm is there in a little game? Everything else is getting more and more pathetic, and you’re an anomaly. You’re not nearly as pathetic as the rest of them, definitely not as much as me! I have only my mind. I won’t use anything else to learn your full name.”

 

The boy pauses. His hands clench tightly on the book, so much so that it shakes in his grip. “Sorry,” the boy says, not looking at him. “But no.”

 

“Nagito Komaeda.”

 

A third voice comes from behind him, and Komaeda wheels around. “Headmaster,” Komaeda beams. “I was just thinking of your name.” The boy behind him stiffens perceptibly.

 

“Should I add harassment to the list, Nagito?” Jin Kirigiri looks oddly weary, though his eyes are sharp and fixed on Komaeda.

 

“Conversation,” Komaeda answers easily, already walking away from the boy and the tree and the book that is now closed.

 

Kirigiri’s eyes slide to Komaeda’s left, and the boy is gone. Komaeda frowns at his retreating back that briskly strides to the school. "Do you know him?"

 

Kirigiri raises an eyebrow, seeming to genuinely consider him. "No more than I know all my students," he replies honestly. “Your session is in ten minutes. Come.”

 

Komaeda’s eyes linger on the boy. The breeze picks up, casting Komaeda’s hair back. Something strange settles in his chest.

 

“Isn’t it a little beneath you to babysit a first-year student?” He stares at the headmaster dispassionately. “And you’re a busy, busy man.”

 

**-:-**

Komaeda stares at the photos for a lingering moment before he throws back his head and cackles, his voice ringing like sharp bells against the vaulted ceiling.

 

The woman in white—now wearing a blue suit—purses her lips. Komaeda can’t breathe and moisture collects in his eyes and he laughs even harder.

 

“You,” he wheezes, shaking his head as his arm clutches his stomach. “Wasted six months of time. Wasted money on—on—a dead man. I’M DEAD!”

 

“Komaeda-san, calm down,” she says sharply.

 

The smile drops and Komaeda goes still. The sudden change startles the woman, but she recovers quickly. “We still want to evaluate you,” she says firmly. “Your studies will continue. The sessions will be increased to thrice a week.”

 

"All the begging," Komaeda mutters, staring at the high ceiling, "all you did to get me to this school, all a waste...I'll be gone in a year. My curriculum will close."

 

She clasps her hands tightly atop the desk. “You will live, Komaeda-san.”

 

Komaeda narrows his eyes curiously. “You think I care about that?”

 

**-:-**

He disappears for a month, two months, maybe nine. Komaeda doesn’t sift through lists but he itches to cheat, yet his own principle stops him. Nobody has seen the boy, let alone heard of him. Then again, they were probably lying. Komaeda doesn’t miss the sneers. He knows the game was never accepted but, Komaeda didn't really care for his acceptance.

 

Komaeda disappears too, here and there, quietly and then far too loudly. The thoughts keep him awake and he feels too raw—every nerve ending ignited, every deplorable thought sinking deeper into him like a second skin. But a bright flicker of hope keeps him cognizant. It keeps him afloat until it’s blazing, searing him to the bone and leaving him breathless.

 

He sees the boy in the hall one day, and gets a similar feeling.

 

“You!” Komaeda says cheerily. The boy halts for a moment before groaning.

 

“You,” the boy mutters.

 

Komaeda’s eyes flicker to the book under his arm. “You haven’t been stalking me, have you?”

 

The boy’s mouth parts and looks at Komaeda disbelievingly, shocked at the seriousness in Komaeda’s stare. “Wh—what? Why the hell would I stalk you?”

 

“You’re reading on neural pathways.” Komaeda gives him a sly look. “You’re not super high school level scientist, are you? Oh, perhaps the luck is in my favor again.”

 

The boy is flustered, tucking the book deeper under his arm. “I’m not,” he says testily. “Is that your talent, then? You’re lucky?”

 

“Mm, a little more complicated,” Komaeda replies disinterestedly. “A little more worthless than even that. Anyway, goodbye.”

 

Komaeda leaves the boy in the middle of the hall, and wonders why he was talking to a stranger?

 

**-:-**

“Inoperable.” The surgeon shakes his head, throwing a strange look at Komaeda, who sits behind a glass window wearing a hospital gown. “This boy needs a hospice.”

 

“This boy will _not_.” The headmaster shoves a file in the surgeon’s hand. “You will operate. That is a direct order." He pauses. "Luck will be on your side, doctor. The surgery will proceed.” To Komaeda, he nods reassuringly. "You'll be given the best treatment, Nagito. Every student here deserves a second chance."

 

**-:-**

Jin Kirigiri stares down at him. Komaeda’s eyelids are closed.

 

“The program will not work on him,” Kirigiri says quietly.

 

“But the research…” a feminine voice trails.

 

“His mind is already heavily burdened. The load will destroy what’s left of it. The program _must_ be on somebody else. Somebody who can carry hope just as strongly. Besides,” Kirigiri's voice lowers. "We've been analyzing him for months. I don't think he will volunteer himself to the program if we tell him about it. His hope does not quite...match with our goal."

 

Silence. Then, “Who?”

 

Kirigiri sighs. "A blank slate."

 

**-:-**

 

Komaeda feels lighter than air. Everything is too much…and cold. So frustratingly, invitingly cold. He remembers some things sometimes. 

 

“A single spark,” she whispers, her voice tranquil and angelic. She sits beside his hospital bed, eyeing the bandages around his head like a predator anticipating its next feast. “And the natural order of the universe will find its way in this filthy planet.”

 

Komaeda has to laugh, coming out as a wheeze. Oh, how _delightfully wrong_.

 

“Enoshima,” he says faintly. “Right.”

 

**.:.**

**.:.:.**

**.:.:.:.**

His vision is red. But when he blinks, it is gone.

 

“Well this is odd,” he hears. Someone tugs at his head. “Accelerated cell turnover affected his hair growth. Huh.”

 

“He can cut it,” an irritated voice snaps. “We need to start assessing his functionality.”

 

“Hajime Hinata,” a soothing voice says to him, and his eyes snap to the man hovering before him.

 

“That boy is dead.” Red eyes narrow. “Izuru Kamukura.”

 

**-:-**

“It’s so very boring,” Junko says, quietly enough for him to hear despite the noise around them. The courtyard is full to the brim today. “I sense it too.”

 

“Do you?” Izuru asks.

 

She does not reply, and he stares through her. Something registers in his head, and a dull spark of something, some emotion—fear?—flickers through him briefly before fading. It...surprises him.

 

And he understands her.

 

“Hmm,” Izuru sighs. “It seems you do.”

 

**.:.**

**.:.:.**

**.:.:.:.**

 

It’s dark. The faint sound of something dripping, like water from a closed faucet, echoes in the room.

 

Like a velveteen curtain the darkness parts, and crimson eyes flash in the shadow.

 

“ _Do you remember now?_ ” Drip. Drip. Drip. “ _Do you?”_

Hinata blinks rapidly, awake. He glances down and sees iron chains wrought around his wrists, shackling him to a steel chair. He jerks heavily, straining against the chains and the chair but they’re bolted to the floor. “Shit,” he curses as the cuffs chafe against his wrists, turning his skin red and raw. A sound comes from the darkness, and he freezes.

 

From the darkness emerges a thicket of raven hair. Hinata struggles to against the chains violently as the figure steps into the light. The breath he’d been holding escapes.

 

Izuru Kamukura stands before him, unsmiling. For a dream, he is strikingly corporeal.

 

_“You know,_ ” he says, and it sounds odd to Hinata’s ears. Deeper, somehow. Izuru tilts his head. “But not enough. Would you like help?”

 

“No,” Hinata grits his teeth. “Get out of my _head._ ”

 

Izuru stares passively at Hinata. “No. I don’t think so. I think I’ll let you work things out. It was all leading to this, anyway. I’ll take it from here.” His eyes half-close, a small smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “It might be…interesting.”

 

Realization sinks into Hinata’s stomach and he yanks against the steel chair, grimacing against the pain. “No! No, you shit! _NO!”_

Izuru smiles, stepping back into the darkness. A flash of crimson is all he sees, until that vanishes as well.

 

Hinata screams and pulls at the chains desperately. The skin around his wrists start to bleed.

 

**.:.**

**.:.:.**

Izuru inhales deeply. His eyes open and sees a boy with white hair staring at him with a wan smile, tilting his head. They're sitting on a bed.

 

“You again,” says Izuru softly. “I guess I underestimated you. Komaeda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izuru and despaired Komaeda. Hinata trapped in his mind. More to come in chapter 12.
> 
> Once again, thank you for the amazing response for this story! I have a lot of theories about the danganronpa universe and I'm really excited to finally start revealing them slowly throughout this fic. This chapter might seem a bit confusing but I promise it all falls together. Flashbacks are somewhat tricky to execute well, and I hope I did it right.
> 
> It would mean a lot to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Until next time xxx


	12. Chains

**Chapter Twelve: Chains**

 

 _Drip. Drip_.

 

He’s not awake, not quite. He… _feels_. Something like burning, chaffing.

 

Blearily, Hinata opens his eyes. When did he close them? He swallows thickly, his mouth tasting like leather and rust. He shifts slightly and hears a small metallic _clink_ , and glances down. His wrists are still bound by iron chains. Still bound to the chair. Still imprisoned within his own consciousness.

 

How did this happen? How…how did Izuru trap him here? How is it possible for Hinata to be trapped at all? The more Hinata thinks of it, the harder his head pounds, and he grits his teeth. Dragging his eyes away from his wrists, Hinata glances about the room. It is barren, dark.

 

Is this where Izuru was hidden, all this time? Locked in the depths of Hinata’s mind?

 

 _Drip. Drip_. “What _is_ that?” Hinata wonders aloud. It’s too dark for him to see where it’s coming from—except no, no it’s there…there’s something in the pitch black, something like a reflection? Something reflecting light, ever so faintly in the distance, like a small stitch in fabric. Hinata squints…the little glint is begins to grow, reflecting brightly until it’s close enough to touch.

 

Hinata blinks, and the darkened room is gone. The glint is now the reflection of a knife, poised at a pale porcelain neck. Hinata recoils.

 

“It is your duty,” a saccharine, melancholic voice says softly. He’s in a hall, rows of students staring at a girl in the front, her hair pink and bound in two pigtails. The girl is beautiful. She frowns deeply as she pushes the blade a little harder against her skin, drawing blood just slightly. It patters to the floor— _drip, drip_.

 

Hinata watches the students raise their arms in unison, a hush of metal slicing the air. Knives, all poised at their necks. Hinata desperately tries to move but he is still shackled, watching in horror as the girl says, “Your existence is shameful. Reserve students should not be, should they? You are the great pretenders. You will do a service to the school—no, to the world!—if you do what you know in your heart to be true.”

 

“ _Yes, Enoshima,_ ” they say in unison. Some are weeping, but Hinata looks closely and sees utter adoration even in their glassy eyes.

 

He hears the words reverberate next to him, and he gasps—there he is—Izuru. Himself. Standing behind them all, behind Junko, behind the students. His left hand idly plays with the hilt of the knife. Red eyes watch Junko, uncaring.

 

“Be quick,” Junko’s voice turns commanding, eyes narrowing. “Cut deep. Don’t prolong your existence longer than it need be.”

 

“No,” Hinata grits his teeth, bile rising in his throat. He glances at Izuru, who’s pressing the tip of the knife against his index finger, twirling it slowly. Why is he seeing this? He—he doesn’t _want_ to see this, he shouldn’t have to see this! “Enough,” Hinata says hoarsely. Junko looks up and his heart jumps in his throat. Could she—can she see him? No, that isn’t possible. No, this is a memory. Memories can’t change. This already happened. Hinata—Izuru—already watched this happen. These students are already dead.

 

It could not, however, stop the wave of nausea that runs through him when the students all drop to their knees, knives clattering to the floor. His vision is red, blood pooling by his feet. The reserve students are dead.

 

“That could have been you,” Junko’s voice whispers sweetly at Izuru’s side. “Aren’t you lucky?”

 

Izuru turns his head to Junko, looking utterly bored. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

 

Hinata squeezes his eyes shut. He hears the drip of blood, the soft gasps of life slowly ebbing into nothing. He can’t listen to this any longer.

 

 _Unbearable, isn’t it?_ The voice is not his, nor Izuru’s. It is a disembodied other, a culmination of everything Hinata detests about himself. Hinata almost laughs. This is fucking ridiculous.

 

 _You did this_.

 

“I did,” Hinata says aloud. He can’t quite hear himself speak, but he knows he’s said them. Is he speaking at all? The thoughts are too much. “I did it. I saw it. I know, goddamn it.” Savagely, he curls his lips and spits, “Show me something I didn’t already know.”

 

The room fades back into darkness. The dripping sound is gone. Hinata sags in his seat, almost grateful for the chains that tether him to the chair.

 

**-:-**

The boy—Nagito Komaeda—looks at him for a long while, the smile wavering until it slips from his face. “Izuru…Kamukura.”

 

“Yes.” Izuru watches with mild interest as Komaeda’s face contorts with conflicting emotion—sometimes elation, sometimes horror. At war with himself.

 

“Hm.” Izuru’s eyes stray down Komaeda, then back at his eyes. “I don’t think you’ll be of much use to me after all.”

 

Komaeda laughs. Izuru faces away from him and catches sight of himself in the mirror opposite the bed, hanging on the closet door. His eyes…Izuru runs an unwavering hand through the unevenly chopped hair. The accelerated hair growth is something Hinata detests, then…

 

He hears a moan and turns his attention back to Komaeda. He’s clutching his head, curling his fingers into a fist and hitting the side of his skull hard, as if trying to shake himself out of his thoughts. Izuru looks down at him distastefully. “Not useful at all.”

 

Komaeda hears that and opens his eyes to glance at Izuru, still hunched over the bed. A breathless laugh escapes his lips. “That makes two of us!”

 

**-:-**

Hinata can no longer distinguish between wakefulness and nothingness. There is darkness and the chains, and then there is stasis.

 

He feels heavy, somehow. As if weighted by some great thing, some oppressive burden sitting astride his back. His eyes, faced with the black emptiness of the room and his eyelids, feel deadened. There is no sound, there is no sight. Hinata almost misses the dripping noise from before. But then he remembers the source of it all along, and refrains from thinking that particular yearning again.

 

This place…it’s as Hinata thought before. This is where his mind had trapped his alter ego, Izuru. His other self. But how did Hinata get himself trapped here, regardless of his interaction with Izuru…?

 

An image of Komaeda’s face projects itself in Hinata’s mind. It was, after all, watching Komaeda’s memories resurface that triggered Hinata to mentally catapult himself here. Seeing him remember, and the cold smile that twisted on his face…

 

Hinata suppresses a shiver. He’s responsible entirely. He should never have pushed Komaeda…the look on his face when Hinata demanded he believe, inwardly crumpling at Hinata’s harsh words…it’s too much to bear.

 

Hinata clenches his jaw and tugs hard at the chains. “Come—on—” Hinata grits his teeth. “You can’t keep me here forever. This body is mine.”

 

Hinata hisses and jams his eyes shut when light suddenly floods in the room. Eyes stinging, he squints to see the room he’s in now. It’s stark white, a strong scent of antiseptic in the air.  

 

“Is he…is he going to be alright?”

 

Hinata jolts. The voice—that’s his _own_ voice. What? He blinks rapidly and forces his eyes open to see properly the scene before him.

 

Hinata’s heart skips a beat when he sees himself standing awkwardly near a glass window. He’s…younger. Or maybe that’s how Hinata ought to have looked like all along, before he was warped and corrupted by his own doing.

 

Someone else is standing next to him. His shoulders are broad, a stern look upon his face. Hinata recognizes him to be Hope’s Peak’s headmaster, Jin Kirigiri. He turns to Hinata, observing his anxious face.

 

“He will live.” Kirigiri gives Hinata a gentle look. “If I recall correctly, you and Nagito are friends?”

 

Hinata watches his younger self duck his head. “Not…not really,” he murmurs. “Just someone I knew.”

 

Kirigiri watches him. “Do you think he would hate you if he knew you were a reserve student?”

 

Younger Hinata jerks in surprise. Kirigiri sighs. “I am Headmaster, Hajime. I know everything that happens in this school. I’m aware of the unrest that’s stirring amongst the students. And after Natsumi Kuzuryuu’s death, well.” Kirigiri slips his hands in his pockets. “Things will only become more difficult.”

 

Hinata shifts uncomfortably in the metal chair, chains rattling, when he sees the desperation in the memory of himself; a look of abjection that Hinata hasn’t seen on himself in so long. Hidden behind it, though, is anger, which surprises Hinata most of all.

 

Hinata switches his attention back to the memory, realizing he’s missed part of it when he sees Kirigiri shaking his head solemnly. “It has to be your choice. I can’t advise you on this.”

 

“I want it,” younger Hinata mutters. He straightens, hands curling into tight fists. “I will do whatever it takes.”

 

Kirigiri almost looks sad when he nods. Hinata feels sick. Pathetic…Hinata had been so very pathetic.

 

The memory fades. Hinata is met with darkness once more. He feels tired and stiff. “If that was supposed to make me feel something,” he says aloud to nobody, “I knew I was a piece of shit a long time ago.”

 

Nothing. Hinata curses. “This is unbelievable. I’m not staying here. I refuse.” He’s met with darkness and darkness only. Hinata frowns. “This is my unconscious. _Mine_. It belonged to me first. I…I could do whatever the hell I want. But what, what should I start with…” _Start with light_ , he thinks to himself. Light. Yes, a little light would help. It would put an end to the feeling of eternity and let Hinata actually focus, rather than spending his time suspended in nothingness.

 

“I want to see,” he tests uncertainly. Nothing happens. “This is my mind. I want to see.” Nothing. Hinata grits his teeth, fingers gripping the metal armrest tightly. “This is my mind. I want to see. I want to see. I am _going to see_.”

 

For an eternity there is nothing, and Hinata starts chanting it in his mind, visualizing the light, the way it would hit his face, the shadows it would inevitably cast, _I’m going to see_ , the warmth it can bring, the way his mood always picks up on the sunnier days, the smiling faces of Sonia, of Ibuki, of Souda and Kuzuryuu, of Owari when she raced Nidai in the sunlit beach front, _I’m going to see_ —

 

It starts as a flicker, like a candlelit flame flickering in the wind, on the cusp of extinguishment—until it flares, growing and growing, until the entire room is bathed in warm, orange light. Torches are lit around him, the room itself appearing to be circular. The floors are now of stone, rather than...Hinata can’t remember anymore what it looked like when Izuru was here with him, but it doesn’t matter, because Hinata used his mind and he brought _light_.

 

He laughs, breathless. “Now,” he says, much louder with a determined glint in his eye. “Let’s do something about these chains.”

 

**-:-**

Izuru walks slowly along the beach. The gulls screech above him and he hears the pitch, the intonation of their cries. He pushes the sound out. No need to waste his focus.

 

The hospital staff don’t blink when he walks in. He wanders through the hallways, one by one, until he stops in front of a door.

 

“Hajime Hinata?” Izuru turns his head to the nurse walking towards him. “She’s still asleep, recovering. We’ll let you know when she’s awake as always, okay?”

 

Izuru tilts his head. “She was a close friend, you see. I thought it might…”

 

Understanding fills her eyes, and the nurse nods empathetically. “Of course, dear. Go on in.”

 

The smile slips from Izuru’s face when she leaves. He opens the door quietly, closing it behind him.

 

He walks to the bed where a woman lies, connected to tubes and a bandage around her forehead. Long, dark hair spills down her shoulders.

 

“Mikan,” he says quietly. “Potentially useful.”

 

**-:-**

Unchained Hinata is equally as useless as chained Hinata, he comes to realize.

 

The chair and the iron chains disappear altogether once he’s freed of them, as if they’d never been there at all. The phantom pain he’d had from where they clamped on his wrists disappeared with him, as did the angry red and purple marks they’d left on his skin. Unblemished and unbound, Hinata now wanders an unfettering length of his unconscious.

 

He expects it to be unyielding, and for the most part it is. Torch lamps light the long, barren stone halls his mind projects for him—he’s pleased the light remains wherever he goes—but he wanders for what feels like hours without any indication that he’s finding a way out.

 

“This is honestly the worst,” Hinata grumbles, irritated. Even his walking doesn’t quite feel like walking—nothing in this place actually _feels_ like anything except what his mind has stored the memory as; he remembers how to walk so he walks, he knows his feet should be on solid ground so they are, but the sensation is mimicked, like a half-life, a stasis in mind and matter.

 

He pauses when he hears a sound. To his left, a wooden door appears. Hinata stares up for a second, closing his eyes, and resigning to whatever the hell is in store for him now. “Alright then,” Hinata sighs. He opens the door.

 

He’s in an operating room. The scent of antiseptic is almost unbearable, layered with starch fabric and acetone. Twelve surgeons and eight nurses stand around an operating table, their gloves glistening red. Cautiously Hinata steps forward, a sinking feeling in his gut, because he knows what this memory is.

 

“Add more hydroxybutanal,” the surgeon closest to the head-end of the table commands to a nearby anesthesiologist. “He keeps waking up.”

 

“I think that means we’re close,” the surgeon to his left says quietly, eyes hopeful. “We’re nearly there.”

 

Hinata drowns out the rest of their words as he walks to the operating end of the table, where a sleeping Hinata rests. Hinata recoils in horror and clamps his eyes shut, pressing his hand against his mouth and staggering out the door—it disappears behind him—and Hinata falls to his knees, retching.

 

He moans weakly, knowing none of this is real, that the vomit isn’t even there if he tries looking at it properly, but the tremors in his body don’t fade nor the way his mind keeps repeating what he saw on the operating table, saw _himself_ …

 

“How…” Hinata says hoarsely, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “How…could that possibly be a memory…I shouldn’t have seen that…”

 

The torchlights begin flickering. They fade where Hinata sits, and maybe the dimming light or the fresh image of what he’d just seen does it, but Hinata snaps out of his thoughts and stumbles to his feet again. “I am done with these mind games. I don’t care how revolting my past is. I am Hajime Hinata. I’ve done terrible things. I accept all of them. So—so you can’t _keep_ me here, this is _my_ mind and I am taking it _back._ ”

 

He starts running. The lamps blaze around him, fiery and burning in his wake. “I am Hajime Hinata. I am Hajime Hinata!” The stone hallway melts into a clear, lighted terrain, and something like a window stands before him. Hinata edges closer, pressing his hands against it.

 

Hinata gasps. Is this…is this what Izuru sees, right now? Is this what Hinata’s body is doing, right now? Through the glass he sees, in a third point of view, Mikan Tsumiki…and his own hand falling from the back of her head. “What the fuck…” Hinata whispers. “Izuru, what did you?”

 

The hand stills. Izuru has heard him.

 

“You…you get away from her,” Hinata shouts. He pounds his fist against the glass window until it starts aching, but he keeps going. “Get out! Get out! This is my body— _mine!_ ”

 

Hinata senses Izuru’s annoyance like a wave through Hinata’s chest, and it only encourages him further. When he sees Izuru move away from Tsumiki and out the door, he watches curiously at what he'll do next. Hinata gapes when he sees Izuru now head to the room where Nidai and Saionji are sequestered. “Oh no you don’t!”

 

Hinata throws his body against the glass window and his vision goes blank—when it returns he’s blinking profusely and the glass window is gone, the feeling of _nothingness_ is gone—he’s breathing hard and it’s _real_.

 

Is he back?

 

Not willing to waste a second, Hinata runs unsteadily to the hospital’s exit, ignoring the concerned looks. He’s grateful when his feet meet sand and he tries running to the bridge, but a violent burst of pain on the back of his head makes him gasp, falling to his knees—as if his body is fighting him—as if Izuru is fighting to regain control.

 

“No you don’t,” Hinata hisses through his teeth, and he retreats back in his mind.

 

**-:-**

 

It’s strange, this feeling. It’s no longer empty nor trapped. It’s not nothing, either, but something more.

 

Whatever it is, Hinata is in control.

 

He knows it when he’s the one standing and Izuru is not. The chair and chains isn’t really Hinata’s style, though; instead, Izuru sits behind a row of metal bars. Hinata glances around the room, and dozens of torches ignite.

 

“So,” Izuru drawls. His hair is long, wearing a crisp black suit. “You’re not so pathetic after all.”

 

“Yeah,” Hinata narrows his eyes. “But you are. I saw a lot of things here, things I’m sure were meant to keep me locked away with guilt. But all it did was make me feel sorry for you. For us.”

 

Izuru’s upper lip curls in disgust. “You’re a bleeding heart. How… _boring_.”

 

“I am.” Hinata lifts his chin. “And it’s why you’re in here and I’m not. It’s why I was able to beat the game, even though you sought to sabotage it. Empathy always defeats apathy. That’s something you, Junko, and all of us who initially fell into despair, couldn’t understand.”

 

Izuru smiles. “Let’s see how empathy works for you when you see Tsumiki, Hinata-kun.”

 

Hinata’s eyes narrow. “I’ll see you around, Kamukura.”

 

**-:-**

He hears the sound of waves crashing. In the distance, a seagull cries.

 

“Can you hear me?”

 

The voice is soft. Familiar. Hinata unconsciously draws toward it.

 

“Hey…are you alright?”

 

Slowly, Hinata opens his eyes. His vision clears, and between the sky and brilliant sun, he sees a halo of white hair.

 

“Komaeda.” Hinata smiles, and Komaeda looks relieved. He helps Hinata sit up. “Are…are you okay?” Hinata says hoarsely.

 

Komaeda considers his question seriously. “Yes. No. But you were the one unconscious in the sand,” Komaeda quirks a brow, looking at Hinata uncertainly.

 

“Yeah but you…you remembered everything. And you…you were…” Hinata watches Komaeda unsurely. “You were despaired, Komaeda.”

 

“I was. I might still be.” Komaeda looks down at their hands, just inches from each other. “Isn’t that…that what it’s like, anyway? Walking down a thin line of good and bad? Every choice we make is that simple test. I…I’ve not stopped taking it.”

 

Hinata doesn’t dare look away from Komaeda, not when what Komaeda’s saying fills Hinata with the kind of hope he never dared to dream of. He…he’s okay. Komaeda…Komaeda, when faced with returning to despair, turned away. Just as Ibuki had.

 

“Do you believe me, then? Th-the file,” Hinata stammers, heart hammering in his chest.

 

Quietly, Komaeda nods.

 

A rush of relief fills Hinata and he lurches forward, throwing his arms around Komaeda. He holds onto him tightly as if in any second he will disappear, as if this is another elaborate test of his unconscious; Komaeda wraps his arms around Hinata’s waist, running a cool hand steadily down Hinata’s trembling back. “Thank god,” Hinata murmurs over and over, “thank god…”

 

Komaeda pulls away slightly too look at Hinata’s eyes. “You were different for a while,” he says. “Was it like your file said? Izuru?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Hinata nods, wincing. He still has a blaring headache from that ordeal…“When I saw you starting to remember, I—well, something about it triggered Izuru out. I was trapped for a while, but I’m out. I’m here for good.” _He won’t haunt me anymore_ , Hinata thinks to himself, and the last of his tension ebbs out of his tired body.

 

“I saw him go in the direction of the hospital, so I followed him—sorry, you—here. Do you know why he wanted to be at the hospital?” Komaeda asks.

 

Hinata nods grimly. “He’s done something to Tsumiki. I think he might’ve triggered the rest of her memories once she wakes up. He…shit, I don’t even know…he probably wanted an ally, or a failsafe in case I was able to fight back. He wants someone despaired on the island again. All it takes is one.”

 

Komaeda presses his lips together, lost in deep thought. “He underestimates our friendships,” he says finally. “He underestimates what we’ve fought for. We will handle Tsumiki. We will handle the recovery of the rest of our friends.”

 

Hinata gives him an odd look. “Are you sure you despaired at all earlier? Who is this optimistic Komaeda?”

 

Komaeda grins. “Like I said, it’s a choice I make every day. After…after everything, after all that’s happened, after remembering and waking and dying and waking again, I’ve learned to believe.” He looks at Hinata deeply in the eyes, making Hinata’s breath come short. “And I realized, from the start to the end of it all that’s happened, is you. There is always you. Not what they tried to make you, not Izuru. You, Hajime Hinata, are my hope after all.”

 

Hinata lifts a hand to run through Komaeda’s messy hair, tugging at the ends just a little, tilting Komaeda’s head. “Thank you,” Hinata murmurs, overwrought with emotion that it constricts his chest. “Thank you…” Their lips brush, the sound of the waves crashing around them as the sun dips gently behind the horizon. Perhaps Komaeda has a point, Hinata thinks as Komaeda nips at his lip. Perhaps, in the end, there will always be Komaeda and Hinata.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the long wait! Truly, I am. But in that time, I graduated college! Wahoo! 
> 
> You all are so wonderful. Did you really think I'd let it end poorly for Hinata and Komaeda? They're fighters, they will always try their best and in the end, come together. Like I said, this is a hopeful fic and I'm not going to draw out a difficult situation more than necessary. And this chapter was about Hinata's struggle to accept all aspects of his past and come out victorious, that Izuru's tactics could not and would not stop him. And Komaeda, bless him, was fighting it too during his short scene with Izuru.
> 
> I should add that this story is strictly DR/SDR2 compliant and I'm not taking into account the other branching franchises that have come out since I started this fanfic. That includes the current episodes coming out, which I am avoiding for the time being so I can focus on my vision for this story.
> 
> Thank you again, and if you enjoyed this chapter please let me know what you thought!
> 
> All errors will be fixed hopefully by tomorrow, as this fic is strictly edited by myself. 
> 
> Love you loads. Until chapter 13 xx
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


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